


Three Peas in a Pod

by elegantmoonchild



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Slice of Life, Unplanned Pregnancy, pregnancy au, pregnancy hormones, southside serpents, sweetvee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantmoonchild/pseuds/elegantmoonchild
Summary: Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink.How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in this nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.





	1. Prologue/Month One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, everyone, to the very first chapter in this Domestic SweetVee fic! I’ve been so excited about this story for so long, you have absolutely no idea. I’ve been taunting you all with mood boards and teasers and been bouncing on my heels, just waiting to release this story once I was finished writing it. I’m pleased that the moment is finally here and I can share a bit of this side of this fabulous ship with you!
> 
> A few initial notes: This story will be broken up by the months during Veronica’s pregnancy. This first chapter is sort of the exposition chapter where you see how their story began. I won’t take too much time setting up how they get together. That’s not the focus of this story, so I apologize if that throws you for a loop. I picture this first chapter almost like a montage, the opening scene of a television show or movie that shows a quick snapshot or series of small scenes depicting how a couple got together before the real meat of the story can continue. I also have done a lot of research about pregnancy (plus I’m a nurse and volunteer with laboring mothers), but if there is anything you think I have missed or have gotten incorrect, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me! I have not undergone the miracle of child-bearing so I’m a bit out of my depth in that area, and I did my best to capture what that feels like! Also, not to confuse anyone, but though there will be mentions of Andrews Construction Co. in this story, Archie does not make an appearance, nor is he mentioned in this fic!
> 
> Okay, those notes aside, I present to you the first month and first chapter in “Three Peas in a Pod”! I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to follow me on tumblr (elegantmoonchild) for future teases and sneak peeks!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

**Prologue/Month One**

 

It all started with a broken down Maserati, the symbol of her old life stranded on the side of the road as a vision of the future drove up in a clunky old tow truck.

It was an early Tuesday afternoon and Veronica was traveling back into Riverdale after what felt like an incredibly long brunch with her mother in Manhattan. The car ride was an hour away, but it still wasn’t long enough for Veronica Lodge to brush off the irritation left behind like a stain of egg whites and mimosas from another aggravating conversation with her mother. If there was anybody who knew how to get under Veronica’s skin like a rusty pair of manicure scissors, it was Hermione Lodge.

It was this left over annoyance that had Veronica kicking at the dirt in her expensive Alexander Wang Gabi booties, the dust from the road’s shoulder pillowing up in an angry puff near the ankle of her black boots to settle on the leather. The route to the Northside of Riverdale meant a quick detour through the more haggard looking Southside part of town, and that’s where her car decided to break down, smoke billowing from beneath the hood with a menacing hiss. Veronica had yanked her cell phone from her clutch and dialed the number for the nearest repair shop, clicking her chunky heel against the ground as she impatiently waited for the tow truck to arrive.

When a white rusty old truck turned off onto the shoulder and pulled up behind her car, she watched with eager eyes as the driver turned off the ignition and slid out of the driver’s side, the logo of an angry looking boa with the words “Serpent Service & Repair” written in red on the door.

The man stood tall, his long legs bounding forward in an easy stride as he made his way toward the rear of her Maserati. For a moment, all thoughts of her broken down car escaped her mind, mesmerized by the man in front of her – tan skin, taut muscles bulging from a grease-covered pair of faded blue coveralls, and a head of jet black hair that clung to his forehead, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. As he moved with confidence, his eyes covered in a pair of dark round shades, the outline of his body glistening in the heat of the summer sun, she thought she might be looking at a mirage.

“Car giving you trouble?” he called out with a relaxed tone, his deep voice sending an odd shiver down her spine. When he was a few feet away, he stopped and peeled the sunglasses from his face, his rich brown eyes meeting hers dead on.

His direct stare caused her to lose her vocal footing as she stumbled through a response. “Uh, yes. Yes. Damn thing started sputtering and then there was a ton of smoke. I figured the best thing to do would have it get looked at.”

His gaze turned toward the car and she was grateful when he crossed toward the front of the vehicle, his eyes assessing the Maserati instead of her.

 _Thank you, God!_ Veronica mentally prayed, feeling blessed that fate somehow sought to send her this hunk of a man with his clunker of a tow truck, an odd modern day metaphor for a knight on his white horse.

Her praise was short-lived, however, shifting into a curse with the next phrase that uttered from his attractive plump lips.

“What the Hell did you do to this thing?”

She bristled at his insult, but tried to brush it off, crossing to join him at the front of the vehicle. He reached back into his back pocket for a rag, using it as a sort of barrier between his bare hands and the metal hood to prevent a burn. She could tell from the steam that the surface was most likely hot to the touch.

“Nothing! I was just driving it. I’ve had zero wrecks, zero accidents. I just drove it off the lot a few months ago.”

He popped the hood and leaned forward to investigate, wafting the smoke away from his face with a few heavy strokes of what she could see were long, thin fingers.

“Yeah, well, it looks like you’ve already overheated the damn thing. Probably a leak in your cooling system.”

Veronica had no idea what any of that meant, but watching him bend over, the curved shape of his ass a prominent image not two feet away from her line of sight, she thought her car wasn’t the only one overheating. When he turned his head and caught her staring, he shot her a grin, his teeth stark white against the dark grease staining his skin.

“Like what you see?”

She immediately felt herself grow flushed with embarrassment, eager to keep the topic on that of her broken down car. “How would I have known my cooling system was leaking?”

“Well, did you notice any puddles beneath your car that shouldn’t have been there?”

Veronica shrugged. “No, though I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.”

He sighed and straightened, eyeing her up and down with a look of irritation. “Figures.”

Her brow furrowed and her head jolted back in shock. “What the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

He took in her appearance with those round brown eyes of his, starting from the toe of her boot up to the tip of her brow.

“You just don’t seem like the type of girl to know dick about cars. Probably too distracted with texting or your makeup in your rearview mirror to pay any attention to what your driveway looks like when you pull out. That’s a classic way to spot a leak.”

“You don’t know anything about me or my interests. I have an appreciation for fine cars.”

“Appreciation isn’t the same as common sense, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess.”

He shrugged his shoulders, using the rag to wipe his hands clean. “If the expensive shoe fits.”

Veronica couldn’t believe his nerve or audacity. She looked closely at his coveralls, her eyes nearly burning a hole through the fabric with their intensity as she scoured the sewn-on patch for his name.

“Sweet Pea, is it?” she asked, her tone dripping with disdain.

“That’s my name,” he answered matter-of-factly, his tone casual and unbothered.

“Well, Sweet Pea, maybe you should spend less time insulting me and more time trying to figure out how you’re going to fix my car. After all, I have a lot of texting and makeup applying to do.”

She shot him a threatening glare, but she could see by the smirk on his face that it was ineffective. When his lips broke into a chuckle, she found her own smile hard to contain.

“Nice one, princess. You’ve got spunk.” He bit his lower lip and grinned at her again. “I like spunk.”

“Like I said, my name is not ‘princess.’ It’s Veronica. Veronica Lodge.” She held out a pristine appearing hand for him to shake. She should have known by the spark of their touch, the black grime under his nails compared to the manicured maroon of her own, that the appeal of their opposing forces would be beyond electrifying.

When they both looked down at their joined hands, feeling the shared tingle between their digits, they both realized that they were completely different in so many different ways, a fortuitous sign of things to come.

And in that moment, their fate was sealed.

Later that night, after an afternoon of playful banter at the repair shop, Sweet Pea gathered up enough nerve to ask Veronica out on date. He picked her up the next night, cruising up to the entrance of her penthouse building on his rumbling 2015 Harley-Davidson Wide Glide, and when she stepped out from the lobby to greet him, she found herself both cursing and praising her choice of outfit for the night.

Though it wasn’t particularly ladylike to straddle someone in a tight, knee-high dress, it certainly wasn’t an issue she’d complain much about, the prospect of clenching her bare thighs around his jean clad ones an unfamiliar thrill that surged through her body.

 _Where did this excitement come from?_ Normally, a guy like Sweet Pea would be one Veronica would turn her nose up at. Dirty hands, lack of pedigree in terms of polite conversation, and rougher around the edges than any of her previous dates. However, despite him being a complete change in taste from her norm, she found herself wondering if maybe that was the point all along.

Her luck had been total shit for months, her last boyfriend possessing enough gall to actually dump her on Valentines’ Day. For as long as she could remember, Veronica had been attracted to the kind of guy who looked well groomed, came from a distinguished home, and could at least provide car service to a date.

One look at Sweet Pea, straddling the metal machine that roared to life with every flicker of his wrist on the handlebar, made her realize though her choice to accept his date proposal had been rash, perhaps it hadn’t been as misguided as she expected. He was attractive, that was factual enough, but beneath the gruff exterior his eyes possessed a shade of kindness. When he smiled, it felt genuine and sincere. When he laughed, she could almost feel it resonate through her own chest, even if they were standing feet apart.

Staring at him now on his bike, his dark hair tossed back by the wind, his tan face erupting in a sly grin as he looked her up and down, she felt as if her breath had been stolen from her.

_God, he was gorgeous._

She approached the bike, her heels clicking against the concrete sidewalk as she neared the curb.

“I didn’t quite dress for two wheels. I expected that a man working at a car repair shop would own a car.”

“I have a truck back at my house, but it’s not nearly as fun to drive as my baby here. Not nearly as impressive with the ladies, either.”

She bit her lower lip and fought against the laugh at his playful comment. “Are you trying to impress a lady tonight?”

He cocked his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest as he sunk deeper down onto the bike. “Maybe. If I run across one.”

Her mouth gaped open at his tease, and she was rewarded with a soft chuckle that wafted from his lips like a gentle evening breeze.

“Get on the damn bike, Veronica. I have somewhere special I want to take you.”

She bit her lower lip as she tightened her purse strap around her shoulder, her mind taking a good two seconds to decide whether or not she wanted to back out of this date before she crossed toward the back of the bike and stood by the seat.

“Don’t kill me on this thing, okay?”

He smirked, one side of his mouth quirking up in a way that had the butterflies inside her stomach fluttering like mad.

“You’ll just have to hold on tight.”

She bit back the flirtatious retort on the tip of her tongue and eyed the back of the bike, trying to assess the best way to mount it with her legs nearly entirely bare and her skirt made of the type of material that would inevitably ride up with a spread stance.

“Just keep your legs away from the metal pipes and you should be safe.”

She nodded in reply and swiftly mounted the bike behind him, grateful that he was a gentleman enough to turn his head forward to avoid staring at the nearly exposed apex of her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned in as he brought the bike back to life with a punch of the gas, and he swiftly led them out into the street, craning his neck back to make sure there were no cars directly behind them.

Immediately, the night air felt fantastic against her skin, eyes closed shut and lips curved upward as she reveled in the way the breeze wafted through her hair. She never would have guessed that in the span of twenty-four hours she’d be riding on the back of a motorcycle, her hands clutching the firm surface of a gorgeous man’s stomach, her fingers daring to skirt along his shirt in a move that wasn’t as subtle as she wished it was.

Touching him already felt so natural, the energy between them sizzling under the setting sun as he led them down a series of streets toward a destination still unknown to her. She watched as passersby on the sidewalks gaped open-mouthed as they cruised past the town square toward the edge of Riverdale, nearing the train tracks that separated the north from the south end.

Veronica had never spent a lot of time in the Southside, other than the quick drive-through to get back and forth during her trips to Manhattan. Her car breaking down had been the longest stretch she had spent, and even then she hadn’t taken the time to properly observe parts of the town that were still a total mystery.

At the dividing line, there was a diner she had never really paid much mind to, but as the motorcycle approached the front of the shop, she had to wonder if this teal paneled building with its neon lights was the special place Sweet Pea was talking about.

As if reading her mind, he began to shout over the sound of the bike grumbling, his boot-covered feet working to park the motorcycle in a spot closest to the front.

“This isn’t where I’m taking you. I’m just making a pit stop really quickly. You like mustard?”

She thought it was an odd question, but she shouted back an affirmative “yes” and released his waist as he turned off the ignition and waited for her to dismount. When she was done, smoothing the material of her dress downward, he followed suit and slung a leg from the opposite side of the bike. When he stood tall, she realized just how much he really towered over her, his muscles evident through his simple button-down shirt and rippling as he twisted his back to stretch.

“I’ll be right back.”

He crossed the few remaining feet of gravel lot between the bike and the diner entrance and disappeared through the glass door, the sound of a bell ringing loud before it was snuffed out by the closing of the entryway. She took his absence as an opportunity to further adjust her dress, pulling the hem down even lower, not quite keen yet to give him an unearned peep show.

When she had straightened out the material, she brushed off a piece of dirt and looked up absentmindedly. There in the wide window in front of her, she could see Sweet Pea knocking fists with a pair of guys wearing leather jackets, both covered in random patches, several of the serpent variety. She quickly put two and two together, realizing he must be affiliated with the same group Jughead had joined a few years after college. She remembered Betty mentioning something about a motorcycle gang that wore decorated cuts and intimidating leather jackets, but watching the men inside pal around and laugh at some unknown joke, she had to assume they weren’t all that bad.

Sweet Pea had a grin on him that spread from cheek to cheek and she felt the bottom of her heart open up for the butterflies to enter, her chest beating wildly with the sight of him lost in the moment of pure joy. There was still so much she didn’t know about him, but seeing that boyish smile sweep across him, warming every single feature about his normally smirking face, she knew there was no way she would ever regret getting on the back of that bike.

When the two guys he was speaking to disappeared, presumably to sit down in an unseen booth, she watched Sweet Pea approach a long counter and mutter a few words to an elderly black man dressed in a vintage soda jerk uniform. When the man reached across the counter and patted Sweet Pea on the shoulder, a fatherly gesture that seemed entirely welcome, she watched as her date’s smile only grew wider before his eyes fell to the ground, his cheeks coloring with a shade of pink.

_My God, who is this guy? Where did he come from?_

Everything about his appearance seemed easy, casual, and completely genuine. Even his attire screamed personal, nothing about his simple button-down and his dark blue denim jeans seemingly obvious like he was trying to put on any sort of airs. She could only assume he had put a little extra effort into the way he looked tonight not because he thought he had to, but because he wanted to, and that impressed her more than if it were doing it for her.

For the next few minutes, she watched as Sweet Pea fiddled with the collar of his shirt, dodging what she figured were playful insults from his unseen friends as he looked in their direction and threw up a middle finger, his face still decorated in that smile she was growing to love. When the elderly man showed back up, two bags in tow, Sweet Pea exchanged them for a handful of cash and headed toward the diner door, throwing back a few friendly words of farewell behind him.

When he broke the barrier, his eyes finding hers in an instant, she was flooded with another round of nerves and the heavy scent of grease and salt. He stepped toward her, his boots crunching the ground beneath him, and he held up the two bags in explanation.

“I got dinner.”

“Are we not staying here to eat it?”

“Nope. I told you I had some place special to take you.”

She was confused, wondering how he expected to get their dinner from this spot to their final destination without any free hands to hold it. Her concerns were addressed, however, when she watched him pull up the top of the saddlebags on the back of the bike, tucking the food inside carefully before snapping the cover back over the bags.

“Ready to go?” he asked, motioning to the bike.

“Who’s that man inside there you were talking to? Who are those guys?”

Sweet Pea turned to look toward the window she had been peering through, his eyes trained on the glass as she watched them shift into something a bit more guarded.

“The older guy is Pop. He owns this place, has always been really awesome with giving away extra fries to the kids he likes here at his diner. I knew him growing up.” He cleared his throat. “And those other guys are fellow Serpents, Hog Eye and Arthur.”

She nearly choked on a laugh that had erupted out of nowhere in her throat.

His eyes snapped back at her and he furrowed his brow inward. “What?”

“It’s just… _Hog Eye and Arthur_? They can’t both have some weird sort of biker code name? Like Hog Eye and Butch or something?”

He chuckled, his shoulders shrugging casually with his laughter. “You’ll have to ask them someday. Arthur will get a kick out of _Butch._ ”

Veronica waited as the laughter died down. “So you’re a Serpent?”

His eyes turned a bit darker, his tone final as he answered, “Yes. Is that a problem for you?”

She puckered her lips in thought. “No, not necessarily. I just moved here not too long ago, and I know one guy that’s a Serpent and he’s been a friend for years. I don’t know much about the gang, or club, or whatever you guys call it though.”

“Club. We’re not a gang. A gang would imply gun violence and drug running or some illegal bullshit like that. We’re just a group of dudes that really, really love bikes and get together and ride.”

“The snakes on the back of that leather don’t seem that tame.”

He smirked, the seriousness in his eyes bleeding away as he returned to that flirty side of him that she was most familiar with. “I didn’t say we were tame.”

Her tongue poked out subconsciously as she wet her lip, her spine tingling as his words left her with a strong implication of the kind of man she was tangling with. Those looks, that attitude – nothing about him screamed gentle, and still there was that way he looked at her when she had walked out of her hotel lobby, drinking her in with a tender brown as if he not only lusted for her, but _admired_ her. _Respected her._

“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself then,” she replied, trying to take the safe route while still flavoring her words with that bit of daring that she hoped seemed genuine. She still had the rest of the evening to get to know him a bit more, to see if that danger she detected was real, if it were something she might be willing to accept or not.

They climbed back onto the bikes and took off from the diner, heading deeper into the Southside before diverting to the west. They climbed a few hills that spanned over a couple of miles, heading further and further into Fox Forest, the welcoming wooden sign of the area waving them on as they breezed past it.

The lush evergreen of the trees surrounding them gave off an enticing smell that tickled Veronica’s senses. It had been months since she had succumbed to the delights of nature, her commute between the town and the city leaving her too distracted with business and other matters to truly take the time to sit back and see the beauty of Riverdale for what it was and what it offered. As they cruised on the bike, no windows or steel barriers keeping them from witnessing the magic around them, Veronica fully gave in to the moment and closed her eyes, inhaling deep and heavy.

Minutes may have passed but time was lost on her as she indulged in the clean air and the warm press of Sweet Pea’s body as she clung to him, her fingers relaxing then digging back deeper into his shirt and his skin, bringing the touch of him closer to her hungry hands. When they finally turned off onto a side road, a short stretch of dirt and gravel opened up before them, leading to a patch of thin green grass and one large rock near the cliff’s edge. Sweet Pea brought the bike closer to the boulder before he fully engaged the break, angling the handlebars to the left after he turned off the ignition.

“We’re here,” he proclaimed, and despite their unnamed location she was too enraptured in the scenery to object, her eyes falling upon the view as she clumsily dismounted from the bike, careful again not to reveal too much beneath her skirt.

“This sight is _beautiful,_ ” she whispered, her hands subconsciously coming together to clasp in awe, her eyes wide as she drank it all in. There in the expanse in front of them sat the sleepy town of Riverdale, the evening hours looming over the houses as street lamps and front porch lights began to click on in a suburban cadence. Where they stood, there was no north side or south side, no divide to be seen as everything blended into a fine mixture of green hills and white wood and black tile rooves. She couldn’t see the train tracks as clear, but she could hear the chug of the engines, the hum of the wheels, the long-winded blast from a horn as the train cars made their way through the middle of town.

“This is one of my favorite places in Riverdale,” he explained, climbing off the bike effortlessly, his eyes glued to her as he watched her fall in love with the scenic spot. “I like to come here when I want to _really enjoy_ what the town has to offer, when shit just gets too real and I need to take a step back and remember why it is I still live here.”

She swiveled on her heel, her eyes glistening with the colors of the setting sun and the shades of flirtation. “How profound of you, Sweet Pea. Do you tell that same sappy story to all the dates you bring up here?”

He looked at her with that same serious stare he had sent her back at Pop’s, his eyes focused and steady. “I’ve never taken anyone up here, Veronica. I don’t really _date_.”

She stared back, utterly perplexed. “Then why did you ask me out on one?”

He shrugged casually. “Because I wanted to.”

In that moment, the confidence that swept off of him, carried away by the breeze to brush against her as she stood mere feet away, Veronica felt the first urge to walk over to him and kiss him straight on the lips. She had never felt more sure, and yet had never felt so scared either. She knew it was rare to come across someone who felt so certain about what they wanted, so certain about their actions and their words. To have him in her presence, this man who looked at her like she was exactly what he wanted, she felt something flutter in the air like magic.

She swallowed back the lump of nerves in her throat and angled her head toward the back end of the bike. “I don’t think we can consider it a date without dinner. Why don’t you show me how you like to wine and dine?”

The corners of his mouth lifted in an easy grin and he reached for the saddlebags, digging into them to retrieve the two grease-spotted bags of food from inside. He gestured to the giant rock and she followed as he crossed to take a seat, his long legs just barely dangling off the craggy surface. When she joined him, her heels were lifted well off the ground, earning a minor chuckle from his amused lips.

“You’re one tiny little shorty, you know that?”

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re such a stocky giant.”

“Stocky giant?” he teased, his eyebrows both lifting in surprise. “That’s a new one.”

“Just hand me my food, smartass. What did you order?”

He handed her one of the bags. “The best burger in town, babe. Topped with all the fixin’s and complemented with a side of onion rings. You won’t find a better meal or a better view.”

She dug into the bag, pulling out the burger, and peeled back the thin yellow paper wrapper before sinking her teeth into the warm buttered bun and the hearty piece of ground beef. She could taste the crispness of the lettuce, the tang of the mustard and the creamy texture of the processed cheese swirling around and over her tongue, a marriage of flavors that caused her to let out a pleased groan.

“Mmm, amen to that,” she mumbled through a mouth full of food, not even bothering with manners, too overwhelmed with the sheer delight of the burger and the scenic view in front of them, highlighted by the warm presence of the attractive man beside her. He mirrored her actions, taking a big bite of burger before stuffing a sizeable onion ring into his mouth.

When she coughed, her mouth suddenly dry from the food, he launched himself off the rock, setting his bag to the side. “Oh shit, I nearly forgot.”

He jogged toward the bike, reaching back into the saddlebags. When he returned, he held two bottles of soda in plastic bottles, handing one out to her with the gray label of Diet Coke.

“How did you know I liked Diet Coke?” she asked as she began to twist off the top.

“I remembered seeing you buy one from the vending machine at the shop,” he confessed, not realizing he had revealed just how closely he had been watching her. She was touched at his attention to detail and memory, how even then he had been interested enough to pay attention to what she did.

“Thank you,” she answered softly, watching as he took a swig from his own soda, the crystal clear liquid of Sprite twinkling inside the green plastic bottle.

For the next twenty minutes, the two of them made small talk as they polished off their burgers and onion rings, the conversation made up of equal parts fascination with their view of Riverdale and flirtation as they shared stories about their time with the town. When she told him about Jughead, she watched as his eyes lit up with recognition.

“I know that little dipshit! Well, he’s not so much a dipshit as just someone I like to call a dipshit. He’s pretty new to the Serpents, I think.”

“Yeah. I think he just joined a couple of years back. It’s funny, he’s never really mentioned you.”

“Does he talk about Serpent business often?”

“Well, no, but I’m just surprised you never came up in conversation. You’re friends, right?”

He shrugged, crumpling up his trash and setting it back inside the paper bag. “You could say that. We haven’t had much time to really hang out, but he’s been coming around the Wyrm more often recently so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. He spends most of his time with his pop and his old lady.”

“Betty? Yeah, she’s my best friend. We met each other back in high school.”

“She seems pretty cool, though I haven’t really had much of a chance to interact with her either. Most of the chicks I see belong to the men who I ride with, and a lot of them are much older. Apart from Jughead, Fangs and I are pretty much the youngest Serpents in the club.”

“Who is this… Fangs?”

“He’s another Serpent, my best guy friend and probably the sorriest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet,” he chuckled.

“Why do you say that? Is it because his name is _Fangs_?”

“No. He’s just completely helpless sometimes. I feel like if it weren’t for me, he’d have been kicked out of the club a long time ago. A real jokester, doesn’t take shit seriously. But he’s been a great pal and always knows when to have a guy’s back, so I guess I’ll keep him around.” He tilted his head to the side and shot her a flirty smile. She felt her heart begin to melt.

“How long have you known Fangs?”

“We’ve been best friends since we were kids. We went through the system together, got initiated together. He tries to be my wingman, but he’s a pretty shitty one,” he laughed, an easy sound that drifted in the air around them in a comforting stroke. “I couldn’t get laid to save my life when he would try to talk me up to girls at the bar.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing he’s not playing wingman for you on this date.”

He shot her another flirty grin, one eyebrow lifting in suggestion, and thirty minutes later they found themselves pressing into each other, his back slammed into the hard surface of his front door as their lips locked in a heated rush, fingers fumbling with clothes as he scrambled to find the right key to unlock his door.

Once they breached the entrance, flying through the open door and nearly tumbling to the ground together, they continued their unseen trek through his house, their eyes both closed as his hand skimmed the wall to get his bearings, leading her down a long hallway of carpeted floor as she tugged up at the hem of his shirt, yanking it out from the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers trembled as she fought to unbutton his shirt from the bottom up, getting increasingly frustrated and choosing to rip open the rest of way up, scattering a few buttons to the floor. His lips curled up through their kiss, growing more and more aroused by her hastiness.

No words were spoken but a few kittenish whispers from her vocal tongue and a few slurred groans from his throat, deep and heady. Instead, they talked through the language of touch, her fingers dancing along the jagged plane of his abdomen, feeling the muscles there bunch up and twitch. His hand found its way into her hair, pulling at the thick strands of black, tilting her head back and exposing her neck for his lips to assault.

“Oh God!” she proclaimed, the first words of that night that really set them off, a flurried frenzy of kisses and clothes coming off littering the hall space around them. They stumbled the few remaining feet toward his bedroom door, the wood nearly coming off the hinge with how hard he shoved the barrier back, their bodies pushing and pulling against each other harshly.

Veronica yanked up the entirety of her dress from the bottom hem, her frame left in nothing but a pair of lace burgundy panties and a matching bra, her tits pushed up and on enough of a display to simultaneously make him drool and dry his mouth up.

When her bra came off, the cabernet shade of her nipples drawing him in with hypnosis, Sweet Pea was a man utterly and completely lost, spun into her web as her hand reached out for him touch her. He tugged and teased, his mouth traveling down the length of her neck and onto her breasts, tongue dancing around the pebbled flesh there as she encouraged him with sharp moans and gasps. Her fingers dove into his scalp, feathering his hair with quick tugs, and he felt his bloodstream begin to boil.

He lifted her up from the bottom of her thighs, the feeling of her wrapping those silken legs around his hips for the first time an intoxicating sensation, and walked them over to the edge of the bed. He tossed her down gingerly onto the mattress, watching the brown in her eyes fade into black as he popped open the seam of his jeans, pulling down the zipper before he tugged himself out of the denim, several inches of hard and hot flesh landing heavily in his palm.

She wet her lips hungrily, her eyes dancing back and forth between his cock and his face, her sight drinking in every inch in between. She reached for the waistline of his jeans, pulling them down the rest of the way, causing him to tumble forward onto the mattress, his swift hands catching his fall before he landed onto her with a hard thud.

“Someone’s in a rush,” he commented, his lips curling up in a smirk.

“Shut up,” she commanded, reaching up with one hand to pull his neck down towards her, lips colliding as her other hand sought his cock out with anxious fingers, palming him roughly and stroking him up and down all in one move. His chuckle was interrupted and his groan was welcome, the shiver down his spine a boost to her confidence as the only thing remaining between them and a good fuck was a pair of expensive catalogue-bought panties.

“I want you so bad, Veronica,” he muttered through clenched teeth, fighting against the urge to explode as her soft palm caressed him in a way that felt way too well-practiced. It was evident both of them were experienced, yet still there hung in the air a sense of nervousness, the exhilarating excitement and anxiety of being with someone new for the first time.

They had connected over dinner, their chemistry building up throughout the night in a tempered glass, and in the back of their minds they both knew it wouldn’t take long before they combusted into each other.

“Then have me,” she replied.

She was rewarded by a quick tug of her underwear with his hurried hand, the rough calloused surface of his palm scraping against her supple skin, a stark contrast of masculinity to the gentle femininity she exuded. It made her tremble.

He loomed over her, hands pressed into the mattress as he lifted himself higher above her, waiting for her to position his cock over her waiting and wet entrance.

Foreplay would come later. Veronica wanted to come now.

She didn’t have to wait long, her back lifting off the bed when he sunk into her, his cock heavy and thick and full to the hilt inside her. He slid long and slow, building up the pace as their fingers found each other, lacing beside her open mouth as she moaned into the evening air of his bedroom.

When the moment was just right, and they had both had their fill, he pounded harder into her, her nails sinking into his flesh as he drove deeper and deeper beyond the silken walls of her quivering pussy, the slick sounds of their union joining her cries and his screams as they climbed higher and higher and higher into their fuck until they both flew over the peak and exploded.

Later, when they came apart and laced themselves back together under the covers, a tangle of sweaty limbs and soothing sighs, they both found their connection spanned beyond a purely carnal attraction, the easy way they chatted up by the rock in Fox Forest just as easy now after they had hooked up.

As they drifted off to sleep, a hopeful sign to Veronica as she silently praised God for Sweet Pea _not_ being the type to kick a girl out of bed, she found herself feeling overwhelmingly optimistic and grateful, happy to have found someone in such a peculiar way that made her feel more alive than she had felt in a while.

 

*******

 

Their relationship soon sped off like a bullet, rocketing into depths that both of them found unfamiliar but not entirely unwelcome. They discovered very quickly that they shared a similar passion for each other, a lust that couldn’t be quenched through one single encounter, and soon they were spending nearly every night together.

Veronica learned all of his odd quirks that he did around his own space, the funny way he’d get really close to the bathroom mirror when he flossed and the way he’d smile wide after brushing his teeth. She discovered that he loved ketchup on his eggs, preferred biscuits over toast, and took his coffee black with two sugars. He wore sweat pants when he wasn’t working and liked to wind down at night with a good vinyl record and a cold bottle of beer.

Sweet Pea also picked up on a few things about Veronica that went unseen to the public. She wore the same burgundy silk robe when she got out of bed, but preferred to sleep in a pair of sleep shorts and his t-shirt. She liked to read before settling down for the night, and she wore glasses framed in thin black designer material. She ate grapefruit halves like oranges, in four perfectly cut wedges sprinkled with a dash of Splenda, and she took her coffee like the color of her skin, milky and tan and sweet.

One of the things they were surprised by was their shared love for classic rock, Veronica’s first twirl in front of him to Fleetwood Mac’s “Silver Springs” sending a shiver up his spine and his stomach to the ground. They traded vinyl each time she came over, blaring Zeppelin and Joplin and Croce from the ancient speakers in his living room.

They would curl up on the couch and she’d serenade him with Van Morrison, her version of “Tupelo Honey” always bringing a smile to his face and laughter to his lungs.

It took a solid two months of secrecy before they both mutually felt comfortable enough to bring each other around their usual social settings. The first night Veronica stepped foot in the Whyte Wyrm, she thought she had never felt so anxious and so desperate to belong.

It was a Friday night, and Veronica had finally broken down to Betty earlier in the week that she and Sweet Pea had been exclusively dating. The two friends made plans to double date at the Wyrm, Betty explaining how entertaining it always was to watch Sweet Pea and Jughead showdown at a round of pool, and Veronica expressed her excitement at finally seeing what the bar was all about.

It was also a chance for her to really see what Serpent life was all about too. She had heard bits and pieces from Sweet Pea and Betty, but she hadn’t been immersed in the culture yet and it had been on her mind for weeks. She stressed for nearly two hours about what to wear, her hair up in wide rollers and her makeup half-on as she scrambled through her walk-in closet.

She finally settled on a pair of tight denim shorts, frayed around the bottom hem, and a simple black tank top that showed just the smartest amount of her ample cleavage. She knew Sweet Pea would personally approve, but that he’d also love the chance to show her off without her assemble appearing too embarrassing. It wasn’t a formal dinner or anything, but still Veronica wanted to make a positive impression – that she was sexy and sultry and Sweet Pea’s, and that she could be trusted to be loyal.

When he took one look at her when she met him outside her lobby, an echo of their first date, his expression looked just as awe-inspired and star struck and aroused.

“Christ, you look tempting.” He watched as she crossed the pavement in a pair of well-defined black heels that appeared glossy under the shine of the street lights. When she reached the bike, she leaned over the handlebars and pressed her lips to his, transferring some of the mauve shade of her mouth onto him.

“Going my way, big boy?” She teased, her smirk enhanced by the soft tilt of her head, the black curls streaming from her scalp cascading over her shoulders.

“You keep it up and we’ll be going back up to your place.” He leaned in for a second kiss. “Now hop on this bike before I make you ride me instead.”

“You make that sound like such a threat,” she replied, crossing around to the back of his motorcycle where she slung her leg over, careful not to touch her bare calves to the hot metal of the exhaust pipe.

“I think you know what I’m capable of.”

“Mmm, that I do,” she mumbled, leaning in to nibble on his exposed ear lobe, the black whisper of his hair tickling the tip of her nose. “Take me somewhere dangerous, Sweet Pea.”

He groaned softly to himself, enjoying the little game they were playing. It had become their _thing_ , a little role-play and a little banter that always got him a little too excited. He could feel his pants tightening in the crotch area, his cock twitching as she continued to nibble on one of his more sensitive parts. He sighed when she released his lobe from her lips, her body leaning back until her hands settled around his waist, her thighs framing his.

“Let’s get out of here,” she commanded and he followed, turning the bike back on and peeling out onto the street, enjoying the way her grip tightened as they took off into the night.

When they arrived at the Wyrm, a wide building made of brick and old wood, Jughead was standing by the front door, smoking the last bit of a cigarette. He waved to them both as Sweet Pea parked the bike next to a long line of other motorcycles, each one of them polished and intimidating.

Veronica dismounted the bike as Sweet Pea switched off the ignition, waiting for him on the curb with an extended hand. He took it with his own, their fingers intertwining, as Jughead led them inside, their eyes instantly clouded over by the fog of the stage lights and stale cigarettes hanging in the air. Betty was sitting on a stool next to a pool table, the closest one in a long row that extended from the front door to the back of the bar. She waved cheerfully over to Veronica when she spotted her.

Though Veronica had her haunches up, her anxiety rising as the eyes of the crowd turned toward her, she felt grateful to see a familiar face, especially of another female. The other women in the bar looked her up and down with not-so-subtle sneers, their men avoiding eye contact so as to not piss off their ladies.

Veronica tugged at the hem of her tank, thinking she may look a little too exposed, but it only succeeded in putting her cleavage on better display, and she tried not to look like she felt – self-conscious and frightened. It was a rare thing that Veronica felt like she couldn’t find a way to fit in. She had always managed to make friends in every other setting she had stepped into, the Wyrm now being the only exception.

There was something so particular about the Serpent bar that left her feeling a bit outcast. The table tops were sticky, the music a bit outdated, and the floor looked like it had seen better days. The men mostly wore leather, but some wore denim cuts, all displaying the signature green and yellow design of the snake, the wide curved letters of the Southside Serpents logo framing the patched on reptile.

The style of the women was a bit more eclectic, mostly fishnets and rhinestone crosses adorning their bodies. A few looked to be Veronica and Betty’s age, but the majority looked weathered and mean, and Veronica quickly decided it would be in her best interest not to get on their bad sides.

“Want a beer?”

Veronica looked up from her assessment to find Sweet Pea gazing down at her with a warm smile on his face. She found comfort in knowing he was enjoying the attention of having her on his arm, even if it was attention she was unsure of at the moment.

“Umm, sure. Thanks babe.”

He leaned down and placed an obvious kiss on her lips, the first sign of possession she recognized, tipped off by Betty during their text session earlier in the week. According to Serpent law, once a member made it known who their old lady or old man was, they were hands off to the rest of the club. Veronica felt a surge of pride, pleased that Sweet Pea wanted everyone to know right off the bat that she was his and he was hers.

“Be right back,” he mumbled against her lips before he split apart from her, stomping over in his heavy boots toward the bar. She walked over to where Betty sat and pulled up a stool next to her.

“How can you wear so much pastel and still look like you fit in at this place? I’m struggling to think I’ll ever look like I belong, and I wear a lot more black and leather than you do.”

Betty smiled and brought her vodka soda up to her mouth for a sip, her perky pink lips pursed around the thin brown straw. “Give it time, Veronica.”

“Plus, if you’re with Pea, no one is going to fuck with you.” Jughead sidled up next to Betty to place a flirty kiss on her cheek. “It’s Serpent law.”

“But he’s just so sweet,” Veronica teased as her towering Serpent lover joined them, holding two bottles of beer in his hands. “How could anyone be afraid of this giant teddy bear?”

Sweet Pea scoffed, handing her one of the bottles. “Don’t tell any of them that. I’ve lost enough cred changing my curfew from two to ten. Gotta get home to my girl.” He leaned down and planted a tender kiss on the top of her head.

“Yeah, the guys all think he’s turned into a big ol’ pussy.”

The group turned to see another man join the group, his dark brown hair faded on the sides into a traditional buzz, his features of the Latin variety, a kindred spirit to Veronica’s roots. His eyes were a soft milky shade like melted chocolate, his skin even creamier with a touch of light cinnamon brown. He wore a familiar swatch of leather over his shoulders, decked out in the patches of the Serpents, and tight black jeans capped with swanky charcoal loafers, a rather bougie choice for a worn down biker bar.

He held out a hand for her to take, his cuff covered in the sleeve of his gray Henley, and she took the manicured limb with her own for a shake.

“Fangs Fogarty. You must be the captivating Veronica Lodge.”

“Ah, the elusive Fangs. I’ve heard so much about you, and was beginning to wonder if I’d ever actually meet you. Pea’s been hiding you from me.” She reached up with her other hand and gripped Sweet Pea’s bicep playfully. “I can see why. Why didn’t you tell me you had such attractive friends?”

“And leave room for this vulture to swoop down for a taste?”

“The best you’d ever have, if given the chance. One bite and you’d be hooked,” Fangs supplied, wiggling his eyebrows in a frisky manner.

“One bite and you’d be running back to me, baby.” Sweet Pea folded his arms across his chest and stared down his friend, towering over Fangs in a gesture that might seem intimidating were it not for the sportive atmosphere between them.

“Well, it’s delightful to finally meet you, Fangs. But I’ll just have to stick with my tall glass of water right here.” She stood on her tiptoes, leaning against his arms as she reached for his lips with her own, meeting in the middle for a heated peck. Fangs shook his head as he stood by and watched.

“Well, when you realize what you’re missing out on, I’m sure Pea will be more than happy to give you my number.” He winked suggestively before turning to face Sweet Pea. “You still shitty at pool?”

Sweet Pea smirked. “Why don’t we find out? But first, pony up your cash. You still owe me twenty from a few weeks ago.”

“It’s hard to pay you back when you’re never around.”

“I’ll take blame for that,” Veronica answered, settling back onto her stool as the two men positioned themselves around the pool table, long sticks in hand. She watched as Sweet Pea chalked the end of his pole. “ _Fangs_ …. wait. Did you name your dog after your best friend?”

Sweet Pea and Jughead chuckled as Fangs snarled. “I wish you’d change that fucking mongrel’s name already.”

“But it just suits you both so well,” Sweet Pea shot back, collecting the pool balls and placing them into a triangular formation.

Veronica tilted her head to the side. “He kind of looks like him too.” She thought of the boxer mix that had a fondness for rubber chew toys and slobbering on pillows.

Fangs shot her a dirty look as Sweet Pea howled with laughter. “I thought we were cool.”

“We are! And the other Fangs and I are cool too. It must be a name thing.”

“Whatever,” Fangs replied, shaking it off as he crossed over to shooting position. “I’m going first, asshole.”

“Be my guest,” Sweet Pea answered, stepping out of the way as he gestured toward the table. Fangs took the shot, the balls crackling loudly as they beat against each other before splitting off into a series of different directions over the thin green felt. The red solid fell into a pocket first and Fangs looked over at Pea with a smug look on his face.

“Fucking solids.”

The two carried on with their banter for the rest of the game as Veronica sucked down her beer, earning a kiss from Sweet Pea every time he came around to her side of the table. Betty and Jughead headed to the bar in the middle of the game, returning a few shots later with a tray of popular bar snacks, all hot and greasy and overly salted. The group munched and chatted, the beers continuing to flow with conversation, and soon it was nearly midnight.

They wrapped up just before one, Fangs pouring himself into an Uber instead of riding his bike back, losing dramatically to a game of ‘I can drink you under the table’ with a Serpent named Mike Hammer. Veronica hugged Betty goodbye as Sweet Pea patted Jughead on the back in a brotherly gesture, the two couples parting ways in the darkened lot by the Whyte Wyrm.

Veronica watched as Betty and Jughead kissed beside her silver Corolla before crawling into the car, their eyes glowing with tenderness and love. She was grateful for her friend that she had found a strong and loyal kind of love so early in life.

“They really are perfect for each other,” she commented as Sweet Pea dug his bike keys out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“As perfect as we are?” he joked, shooting her a smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

“Probably better,” she laughed, her legs straddling his as she stood close to him, her hands coming around to tuck inside his back pockets. “Big bad biker and the daughter of an heiress – we make quite the pair.”

“Yeah, _one Hell of a pair._ ”

She squeezed his ass as he leaned down for a kiss, their lips pressing together softly then tighter, skin fading into skin as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him, their bodies practically melting into one. She could feel every hard inch of him from his shoulders down to his kneecaps, and he moaned at the sensation of her soft breasts pressing into his chest. He deepened the kiss, angling his head to the side, before his hands slipped down to grab her bottom and scoop her up, her legs instantly wrapping around him. He walked her slowly backwards, their mouths still intertwined and mingling, and soon her ass connected with the seat of his bike.

He leaned over her tiny frame, his well-built form towering over her and the steel and chrome beneath, all metal and leather and soft porcelain skin. Her arms came up to envelope his neck, forcing him to bend deeper, enough to make him place his palms on the seat of his bike and frame her in between his chiseled arms. Her fingers slid down the flesh, cotton, and leather of his torso, gripping his biceps as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

His welcoming groan only encouraged her, the success of the evening enhanced by the boldness she felt claiming his mouth for her own in front of the Serpents’ bar. Her fingers folded inward to breeze against the lapels of his leather jacket, to clutch at the cotton t-shirt beneath, her nails scraping his skin through the thin fabric. She longed to rip the cloth from his chest, to feel his hot flesh gliding under her well-manicured fingers.

It was clear he had longings of his own, the sounds from his mouth and the grinding of his hips against hers increasing as he stepped further in between her wide-open and straddling thighs. He nibbled on her lower lip before devouring her mouth again, sipping from her cup as he stole the little gasps and groans from her lips.

“I need to feel you,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“Then feel me,” she taunted, her hands skimming down his pecs toward his abs, which flexed beneath her touch.

“Not here, Veronica. I can’t feel you like I want to in front of this place.”

“And why not?” she teased, her lips nibbling down the column of his tan neck.

“Because I want you naked and wet, and I’ll be damned if anyone else gets to see you like that.”

His possessiveness only turned her on more, prompting her to ride waves against his groin in a way that had the zipper of his jeans pressed roughly against her more sensitive spots, and his chest reverberating with a growl so low and deep, she felt herself growing wetter by the second.

“Veronica,” he warned, and she couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in her throat.

“You’re really loving this, you fucking minx,” he teased, his tongue tracing along the outer edge of her top lip. “Just wait until I take you home.”

Veronica shook her head, her mouth beginning to work him again as she took charge, the supple and bruised flesh of her lips puckering and pushing against his jawline. “My place tonight. I want you in my bed tonight.”

He leaned his head back, tilting his chin up into the air as he felt her tongue trace a line down to his Adam’s apple. His eyes closed, the ecstasy of her caress nearly overwhelming his senses as he tried his best to keep his erection under control in his jeans. The thought of her so adamantly wanting to take him in her own bed, the picture in his mind of her naked and filthy, riding him in her own territory, drove him nuts and near the peak of madness.

He needed to get them both out of here before he took her rough and wild against the brick of the alley.

“Fine,” he sighed out with a heavy breath, groaning one last time at the way her fingernails dipped beneath his shirt to scrape his skin there while her mouth pressed a final hot kiss at the base of his neck.

They soon took off into the night, her hands and his mind playing out the most dangerous foreplay as he tried to keep his focus on the road and not on the way her fingers began to curve under the beltline of his pants, brushing against the thin black curls that nested just above his already stiff and throbbing cock.

It was a miracle he didn’t drive them off the fucking road.

When they finally stumbled up to the floor of her penthouse apartment, his big boot covered feet tripping over her heeled ones, Veronica felt her blood boiling to an almost critical level. Her skin felt like it was on fire everywhere it touched, his calloused fingertips and rough palms grazing her stomach, her arms, the exposed small of her back where her shirt had risen. Their teeth clashed and lips waged war as they bit and sucked and pressed flesh to flesh, their shared groans echoing down the hall like the sounds of battle.

He pressed the front of her body against her front door as she fiddled with her keys, shaky fingers struggling to find the right key and insert it into the knob as his hips pushed into her backside. She could feel his erection, firm and angry, scorching her through the thick layer of his jeans.

His hands were everywhere, coming forward to grip her breasts painfully as she finally found the right key, moaning out in triumph and pleasure when the knob finally turned right. They fell through the foyer of her apartment, his heavy hand pushing the door backward to slam against the frame, a discarded thought as he began to tug at his clothes. She mirrored him, pulling up the hem of her tank top to reveal her tight black bra, lace over expensive silk, her tits pushed up and in to show off an ample amount of cleavage.

Sweet Pea could feel his mouth water and his cock twitch, his grabby hands reaching out to find her hips and pull her into him. She pushed him away, a tug-of-war of sexual tension and build up, her fingers shoving against the hot flesh of his chest when her brain screamed at her to dig into the skin and mark him.

“Get over here and let me fuck you,” he growled, his eyes dark and feral as he loomed over her.

“My house, my rules, Sweet Pea. And tonight, I’ve got all the power.”

“The Hell you do,” he fought back, the corner of his lip turning up in a sexy sneer. “I’d like to see you try, princess.”

“Watch me,” she taunted before she unbuttoned her denim shorts, slipping them to the ground and exposing the creamy caramel tan of her long stems, the matching pair of black panties that rode up into a tantalizing V from top of hip to top of hip. It took all of two seconds for her to realize she had made a big mistake, his eyes narrowing and his chest rising quickly with anxious breathing, and she made a dash for the bedroom, laughing all the way down the hall. He was hot on her heels, a game of cat and mouse that had her adrenaline pumping and her sex aching with moisture and need.

He caught up to her just before she reached the king size bed, his arm wrapping around her waist and dragging her back against him as she let out a loud squeal. To even the playing field, she reached back with an excited hand and found the outline of his rigid shaft jutting against the front pocket of his jeans, stroking him up and down with eager movements.

His mouth found the crook of her neck, the underside of her ear as he feasted on her, moaning whispers of filth against her skin as she continued to rub against him with her palm. When his hands came around her front, one dipping into the left side of her bra to fondle her breast, the other pushing around the elastic band of her panties to slip a finger past her wet slit, she thought she would die from longing.

They quickly stripped themselves of the rest of their clothing, shedding denim and lace on the floor of her master bedroom, and soon tangled their limbs together on top of the sheets, too eager to give a damn about the temperature of the room or the decorum of fucking under the covers.

Her legs straddled his, her hands finding his eagerly awaiting palms as their fingers locked and she sank down onto him, the thick shaft of his cock stretching her out with a delicious stroke of white hot heat. She bounced up and down on him a few times before her hips began a deeper rhythm, rotating up and down and around in figure eight motions, his length up to the hilt inside her.

They didn’t bother with volume control, her screams and cries bouncing off the walls, his growls and curses mingling with the animalistic noises that resonated every time her soaked center slammed back down onto him.

His fingertips tweaked her nipples, keeping her grounded over him as his palms caressed the underside of her supple flesh. Her head shook to the left and right, pleasure overtaking her as the first wave of an orgasm began to build within her. She cursed his name as she shattered over him, her walls squeezing the stiff length of flesh inside her, searing him with the hot desire of her climax.

Her hands flew up to grip her own hair, her bowed back pushing her breasts out further for his viewing pleasure, and he enjoyed the show completely as she rode out her first orgasm into the rebounding one, her mouth open wide in a circle of plump flesh and adventurous tongue, sliding around her lips to leave a wet trail that he wanted to follow. 

When she came twice, he found himself tumbling after her, exploding inside her tense and quivering walls with a long, slow shiver, his groan releasing into a growl and then a shudder as they collapsed into each other.

It took another five minutes before they finally steadied their breathing again, the twilight hours stealing them away into sleep as they drifted off, their bodies clinging together in a tender clutch that had a smile painted over their slumbering faces.

 

*******

 

Two pink lines. The moment her incredibly thrilling present quickly became her past was defined by two very distinct, very real pink lines.

Veronica sat hunched over the toilet seat in her master bathroom, her fingers clutching a thin stick of plastic and science that held the scariest truth she had ever faced, the results staring back up at her, mocking her. Her knees bounced with anxiety and something akin to fear, her throat tightening up as she felt the tears and the concern pour up and fill in her eyes. When the first tear fell, she closed her eyes and released a long, slow breath.

Three minutes was all it had taken to go from a single moment into the next, like leaping from one building to another. She felt her stomach drop as she had first started pacing the tiled floor, her bare feet clammy against the cold surface, leaving heat marks in her trace. The seconds ticked by so slowly, but when she saw the first positive result, she wished more than anything she could go back to the very second before the strip turned pink.

The whole night started hours before when Veronica woke up in Sweet Pea’s bed, instantly experiencing a nasty bout of nausea that had her shoving back the covers and making a mad dash to the bathroom. Sweet Pea appeared a minute later, standing in the doorway with his hand braced against the frame, one of his eyes squinting at her while the other accommodated to the bathroom light.

“You okay?” he grunted through a sleepy and dry throat.

Across the tiny bathroom, Veronica had knelt onto the soft pink rug in front of the toilet, her right hand clasping the thick stream of her black hair while the left clung to the toilet seat. She had just vomited up the contents of her dinner from the night before, a little bit of bile still stuck to her bottom lip and chin, and she tried to spit out the remnants from her mouth.

“No. It must have been the damn chicken. I thought it looked a little rubbery.” Her stomach lurched at the thought and she leaned in closer to the toilet. After a tense moment where she thought she might throw up again, she sat back onto her heels and pursed her lips to let out a long breath, desperate to settle her insides.

He took a step toward her, but she held a stern hand up in objection. “I don’t want you to see me like this. Plus, I think us both taking up space in this tiny bathroom will only make matters worse. Can you just get me a rag with some cool water on it and then you can go?”

He hesitated but nodded, knowing she’d make a stink if he tried to be any more chivalrous than that. He grabbed a washcloth from the drawer under the sink and ran the faucet over it, soaking it in cold water. He rung it out so it wouldn’t drip on the floor and handed it to her, which she happily took with a long groan. He watched as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the rag before folding it horizontally and settling it over her forehead.

“Much better,” she sighed. “It’s probably just some food poisoning, Pea. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Do you want me to call in?”

“No,” she shook him away with a wave of her hand. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t need to miss any more work, especially not after last week.” Her lips curled up in the teeniest of smiles as she recalled the morning they had slept in and made love until four in the afternoon.

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Please. Go to work. I’m just going to pick up some Pepto at the drug store and camp out at my place for the day. I’ll give you a call tonight when you get off of work.”

Again, he hesitated, but he eventually nodded and stepped back out into the dark of his bedroom, leaving her alone and retching once again into the toilet.

By noon, Veronica had found that her nausea had subsided, and immediately it had put her on alert. It wasn’t common that food poisoning, or even a stomach virus, lasted less than twenty four hours, much less twelve. She was grateful for the relief her body felt, but she was on edge for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for the nausea to return.

When the afternoon turned to dusk, and the nausea still hadn’t come back, Veronica reluctantly turned to other conclusions.

She made a frantic dash to the pharmacy a few blocks away, scooping up a handful of pregnancy tests into her shopping basket, cursing herself for not counting the days between periods. She had been so blinded by the past eight months of passion and whirlwind emotion, too happy to think about the minor inconveniences of her body that could turn into something much larger.

She stepped up quietly and uneasily to the counter for payment. She’d had a few pregnancy scares in her later teen years, and the ordeal had been just as scary then as it was for her in that moment.

 _I suppose you never grow out of that kind of fear,_ she thought. _The joys of being a woman._

Once she had made her purchase, she scrambled out of the shop and back toward her apartment, doing her best to conceal her shopping bag from prying eyes. Though she didn’t expect anyone to be unusually interested in her shopping habits, the town was small and mouths were big.

When she finally made it back into her apartment, she tossed the bag of tests on the kitchen counter and froze, not ready to face the possibility that she might be expecting. Instead, she did a load of dishes and put away the clean plates and silverware inside the dishwasher, her eyes nervously falling onto the bag every few seconds.

When she decided to finally relent and take a test, she posted up in her bathroom with a purchased bottle of coconut water and chugged it back, waiting for the urge to pee to come. When the first test turned pink, she felt the blood drain from her face and pool down into her toes.

She took another, and then another, and then there were four tests settled on the edge of her bathroom counter, each one of them pink and positive.

The fifth one, still held in her hand, was the last one she had purchased, the last hope she had held that she might have picked up multiple false positives instead of the more probable answer – she was pregnant.

“Oh shit,” she whispered to no one, and let the tears fall.


	2. Month Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink.
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a quick moment before we dive into Month Two to thank everyone who read, commented, reblogged, gave kudos, sent asks, etc. regarding the first chapter of this fic. It means so much to me to know this story has been well received and that the concept of a Domestic SweetVee can be embraced. You are all so fantastic, and I appreciate every second you spend on my work, so thank you again! 
> 
> This chapter will focus on the events of month two of Veronica's pregnancy. If you have any questions, concerns, or comments, please do not hesitate to reach out to me on tumblr as well (elegantmoonchild). I will be more than happy to address whatever you bring me! I hope you enjoy this latest installment of "Three Peas in a Pod"!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

**Month Two**

 

Veronica waited anxiously on the wide cushioned ottoman, her knees bouncing and angled to the left as her eyes danced between the dressing room door and the carpet beneath her feet. Betty was finishing up the last of her fitting, using this time to change back into her street clothes. The girls had planned to hit up a local café a few blocks away from the bridal shop before they headed back to Riverdale, but even without coffee Veronica was already on edge.

Throughout their entire fitting, she had been plagued with nerves. She needed to tell Betty, needed to tell someone that she had taken the pregnancy test the night before, that there was a great possibility she was carrying Sweet Pea’s child. The whole thing seemed like one grand joke, but the reality was staring her in the mirror when she stood that morning, wiping vomit off her chin with a piece of toilet paper.

Morning sickness. Tender breasts. Headaches and a sleepiness she hadn’t felt since college.

She was probably, most definitely, pregnant.

Betty pulled back the curtain divider from the dressing space, her purse slung over her chair as she shimmied into her pair of beige ballerina flats.

“Well, that was productive,” she exclaimed, carrying a bill in her purse detailing the purchase and first fitting of a bridal gown. “I’m so glad we found something on the first go.”

“Me too,” Veronica chimed in, watching as her best friend crossed the carpeted space to sit next to her.

“I still can’t believe it myself, V. I’m going to get married. I’m _finally_ going to get married to the love of my life. It feels like it’s been forever since Jughead first kissed me and all thoughts of anyone else just disappeared. He’s all I’ve ever wanted and now I’m finally going to get him for the rest of my life.”

Veronica watched as her best friend’s face erupted in a blush of deep pink, her cheeks warmed with the joyous prospect of the future. Veronica wondered if she’d ever experience that same sense of completion and hope for what was to come. As of that moment, her fear had been all consuming, burying itself in the hollow of her throat to clog her words as they threatened to come up like vomit.

She had to tell Betty. She had to tell someone. When the strip of that test had turned pink, her entire life had flipped upside down and she felt as if she were drowning alone. She couldn’t find the strength to tell the one person it mattered most, the biological father of the implanted egg that rested within her womb, but she had to tell the next closest person. She had to tell Betty before she imploded and suffocated from her own concerns.

“B…”

Betty looked up from the fingers she had been fiddling with, a nervous habit that she did when she was overwhelmed by a series of emotions, and her wide smile began to slip as she took in the sight of her dark haired bestie grimacing and nibbling on her bottom lip.

“Veronica, what’s going on?”

“I,” she began but Veronica was still finding it hard to carve out the words she needed to say. It was a rare occasion that left her speechless, but she supposed if it was going to be anything, the subject of an unexpected pregnancy was as good as any to leave her fighting for words.

Betty stepped closer and placed a comforting palm on Veronica’s fidgeting upper arm. “V, you can tell me. Did something happen?”

When Veronica remained silent, Betty swallowed heavily, cursing her own happiness. “Did you and Sweet Pea break up? Shit, I can’t believe I missed it. I’ve been so lost in my own bliss. I should have seen the signs.”

Veronica quickly shook her head, her brown eyes flying up to meet the imploring green of her best friend. “No! No, it’s nothing like that. SP and I are still together… for now. But I’m worried, Betty. I’m worried he won’t want to be after…”

Betty cocked her head to the side, trying to read between the lines of her friend’s trembling speech. “After what, Veronica?”

The dark haired beauty took in a deep inhale and closed her eyes, doing her best to settle into the carpet with her heels to balance herself for her confession.

“After I tell him about the baby.”

“After the baby? What baby? Wha—“ and then Betty fell silent, her mouth growing smaller as her eyes widened. It took her a moment to find her voice, but when the words came they were filled with little concern and something wild and hinting at wonder. “V, are you pregnant? Are you going to have a baby?”

Veronica smiled sheepishly, excitement beginning to seep into her system at the sound of Betty’s merriment. “Yep. At least, that’s what the stick says.”

“That’s… that’s fantastic!” Betty shouted, earning a few frightened looks from bystanders in the shop. She quickly apologized with a frantic gesture of her hands before turning her attention back to her best friend.

“So you’re pretty sure that you’re pregnant? I mean, not that I doubt the validity of the test, but you know your body best.”

“I’m pretty sure,” Veronica explained, chewing on her bottom lip as they walked out of the shop and slowly down the pavement toward the nearby café, a new shopping bag in her hand filled with a pair of shoes she was most certain would feel entirely too painful to wear during the time of the wedding. She’d be six months along by then, her ankles probably swollen and her stomach too fat to care about a pair of damn heels. “I’ve been feeling pretty sick these past few days and I haven’t had a period in over forty days.”

“But haven’t you two been using protection?” Betty’s porcelain cheeks erupted in a subtle blush.

“Yes, but… well, Pea is just a really enthusiastic guy! I’m sure we’ve ripped a condom or two and I just haven’t been paying attention. And sometimes the moment is just… too good to pass up and we’re not always home where we can grab protection.”

“Sweet Pea doesn’t carry one around in his wallet or you don’t have one in your purse? Jughead always –“

“Betty,” Veronica cut her off, “condoms kind of clash with couture.”

“Well, do you remember when? Like… the night it happened?”

Veronica had to think for a moment, her chin tilting up to the ceiling in thought. “If I had to guess, it was probably the night of Fangs’s birthday party. Pea was like an animal that night. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

“I remember,” Betty replied, rolling her eyes. “You two were causing so much of a scene around the pool table that I had to excuse myself to go vomit.”

“Don’t act jealous,” Veronica teased, shoving her friend’s arm playfully as they passed by a bodega with the door wide open, releasing into the air a heavy aroma of curry and mint, the two mingling together fiendishly to turn Veronica’s stomach.

“Oh shit,” she muttered, stopping suddenly on the sidewalk to settle a hand over her stomach. She blew a slow breath out of pursed lips. “I am _not_ going to get used to this nausea, _that_ I can promise. Another fine symptom of pregnancy, Betty. If the doctor says I’m not knocked up, I’ll eat my damn shoes… though the thought of that is not helping my stomach feel better right now either.”

“Maybe we should forget about the cappuccinos.”

“No. Honestly, some hot tea might make me feel a little better. _Not_ mint, though.”

The two arrived at the café a few minutes later, sitting down at a table on the patio area where Veronica could allow the fresh air to ease her sour stomach. Veronica found she was able to nibble at a ginger scone, picking at pieces of the crumbling mixture to dig out the crystallized root known to settle nausea.

“How are you feeling?” Betty asked, carefully watching her friend as the color returned to her face.

“Better,” Veronica confirmed, exhaling slowly as she relaxed into her chair. “I feel like I’ve been throwing up for days now, and it’s only been a couple. This is going to get old, fast.”

“How does the rest of you feel?”

Veronica shrugged, settling a hand over her stomach. “Not as bad as the nausea. My boobs are a little tender and I feel more tired than usual. The real proof something isn’t right? The fact that I don’t want to have sex. Well, it’s not that I don’t want to have sex, exactly, but I just don’t want to be touched _that way._ Everything is a bit sore right now. I’ve been trying to put on a brave face for Pea, thinking maybe I was just overworked and needed a break, but now it all makes sense. These hormones are a bitch.”

“I’m sure all of that will go away in a few months.”

“A few months… joy,” Veronica sighed, irritated. “Already, this thing is inconveniencing my life.”

“It won’t be all _that_ bad, V. Things are just a little rough now. You’re tired. Why don’t you go home and take a nap after this?”

Veronica waved her off. “I’ll be fine, plus I still have a lot to think about before I sit down with Sweet Pea and have ‘the talk.’”

“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”

Veronica thought long and hard for a moment, staring at the cloth draped over the table. “I think I want to keep it. I don’t know, though. There’s going to be so many things I need to consider. Like take your wedding, for instance. I’m going to be so damn huge, Betty. Are you sure you want me to be your maid of honor? I’m not going to look like much of a maiden. More like a manatee.”

“Stop,” Betty replied, shaking her head. “You’re going to look _beautiful,_ Veronica, like you always do. I’m sure pregnancy is going to look good on you, just like everything else does. Besides, there’s nobody else I’d rather be by my side to watch as I give my heart away officially to the love of my life.”

Veronica smiled tenderly, flooded with joy for her friend before her thoughts came crashing down in her mind, realizing she might be one conversation away from the man she was starting to consider might be more than just a hot and heavy boyfriend.

“So what are you going to do about your parents?” Betty asked, picking at her blueberry muffin and plopping a tiny piece of baked blueberry into her mouth.

“I have no clue, B. You know how Hiram Lodge can get, especially with unexpected news.”

“Have they even met Sweet Pea yet?”

“No, but he’s heard enough to know fear is the best reaction when facing the Lodges. Daddy is going to flip out. I’m hoping my mom’s calm demeanor can help temper him. I guess eventually we’ll have to tell them soon before I’m the size of a house… that is, if Sweet Pea decides to stay with me after he finds out.”

Betty reached across the café table to place a gentle hand over her friend’s. “It’s going to be okay, V. Pea loves you, I just know it. You two may not have said it yet, but I can see it in the way he looks at you, especially when he thinks you’re not looking at him. There’s no way he’s going to cut and run. Just have a little faith, okay?”

Veronica sighed, releasing some of the tension from her shoulders. “I’m trying, Betty. We’ve just never faced anything like this before in our relationship. It’s been nothing but fun and adventure, passion and spontaneity. Things have to be structured with a child. No more three am motorcycle rides through the Southside, no more rushed sex in the Whyte Wyrm bathroom. We’ll have a baby to look after. We can’t just up and leave when we feel like going out and doing something crazy. A babysitter will have to be called, schedules will have to be made.”

“Well, you have an A+ babysitter right here that will be more than willing to take care of your little bundle of joy for as long as you need. Plus, it’ll be great practice for Jug and me for when we finally decide to start having kids of our own.”

“Have you guys talked about it?” Veronica asked, trying to turn the subject around on her friend to ease the anxiety growing in her stomach.

“We’ve talked about both of us wanting kids,” Betty replied with a shrug, leaning back casually in her bistro chair. “But I don’t think we’re in any rush. We want to enjoy married life first for a bit, maybe take a trip or two in the next couple of years. I think Jug wants to take a step back from the club for a bit too while he has time. Once FP steps down, Jug thinks he’ll ask him to take over.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Betty pursed her lips to the side in thought. “I’m not sure. I don’t mind the Serpents. Their reputation isn’t stellar, but I know the guys and I know they’re not into causing trouble. It’s just a big undertaking and I’m worried it will eat up a lot of Jug’s free time. Between running the shop and the club, he’ll have his hands full.”

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine, Betty. Jughead loves you more than anything, and he’s not stupid. He’ll put you first, no matter what. Plus, he’s got the rest of the guys to help him out. I don’t think Pea has any interest in leaving the club completely. They gave him a family when he had no one but Fangs.”

“And now you’re giving him a family, too.” The girls smiled softly at each other. Veronica could feel the warmth of hope start to creep back into her toes.

“Speaking of Fangs,” Veronica prompted, digging into her scone again for another piece of ginger. “Did you hear about his latest conquest?”

“Are you talking about Kevin?” Betty asked with exclamation, excitement building in both their eyes as the easy topic of gossip arose. “I can’t believe they finally went on an actual date. I haven’t had a chance to grill either of them about it, but when I went to Pop’s the other night to pick up dinner, the two of them looked like they had stars in their eyes. I’ve never seen Fangs look so smitten.”

“The start of something brilliant,” Veronica teased with an uplift of her brow. “I’m going to need the deets on this date, pronto.”

Betty reached into her purse, a smirk on her lips. “Well, why don’t we just call up our pal Keller and have him meet us for a fill-in sesh!” She giggled as she bit her bottom lip, her fingers flying over her phone’s keyboard to type out the text message.

Thirty minutes later, a sandy-haired and wildly blushing Kevin Keller joined them at the café, his mouth flying a mile a minute as he caught them up on the sizzling first date he shared with the Serpent and how they had been texting non-stop since. Veronica sat back and listened with enraptured ears, silently grateful for the distraction and delay, wanting to put off her admission to Sweet Pea for as long as she could.

 

*******

 

Veronica dangled her legs off the side of the bed, her palms pressed deep into the mattress as fear overwhelmed her entire body.

Telling Betty about the baby had been difficult enough, but the prospect of telling Sweet Pea, the wild and rambunctious man she had spent the past eight months riding side by side with, game for any adventure, that he was about to become a father was scary enough to fill her throat with sand. To tell him their crazy life together was about to slow down sooner than expected frightened her entirely, and the risk that it could stop their relationship short just seconds after the words left her lips left her limbs trembling with trepidation.

She left the positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter, sitting directly in her line of sight through an open doorway from where she sat, a beacon of change burning a hole into the Formica. She didn’t want Sweet Pea to see it as soon as he walked in, choosing to take a more tactical approach to telling him the news.

_Talk first. Show later._

Veronica knew, no matter what she expected him to say or how he might react, she could handle her future with this baby alone. Every waking moment since that very first test, she had thought about the pros and cons of taking care of the child as a single mother, what that might mean for her future, what she was capable of. Though fear ran through her blood stream, pumping along her system and seeping into every vessel, strength flowed within as well and she knew she could face whatever challenge life shot at her.

Having a baby was certainly a challenge she never saw coming.

Taking another test again today had been further confirmation that she could look down at a positive result and still feel as if she were making the right decision. Terminating the pregnancy had been an option, one a progressive woman like Veronica was prone to consider, but in the end the thought of having a part of herself dependent on her strength, dependent on her perseverance, filled her with a sense of purpose she never thought possible, especially not when it involved another person.

She had always been so solitary in her decisions when it came to choices that directly affected Veronica. If it could affect others, she wouldn’t hesitate to put them first, and she realized she was admittedly being selfish choosing to keep the baby when she might not be completely ready. However, Veronica was also a shrewd thinker and would never entertain an idea if she didn’t think there was a chance she might be successful.

Having this baby, giving them both a shot at a promising future where they could have each other, she wasn’t quite ready to give that up yet. Whether Sweet Pea wanted to be a third party to that fate would be entirely up to him.

She heard the door shut from down the hall and her chin jutted upwards with confidence. It was time to face what might be the end of something spectacular, but still there were no regrets. Veronica was already sold on this baby.

The strength of her decision fed her tangled nerves and gave her the boost of confidence she would need to get through this conversation.

“Babe?” she heard him call from down the hall. He knew she’d be at his house, a bit of planning on her end as she had figured the news might go a bit smoother on his own turf.

“Back here,” she muttered, just loud enough to get her message down the hollow tunnel of the hallway, and she gripped the edge of the mattress with both anxious hands.

He pushed back the rest of the door, opening the room wide for him to enter, his flannel shirt dotted with specks of oil and grease, the bottom hem crinkled up like it had been bunched together at some point. He took his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, a routine habit she knew he did whenever he came home, but never once did his eyes leave her. She knew he could see the concern on her face, his own mirroring it.

“What’s going on, Veronica? Why do you look so upset?”

She fiddled with a loose string on the comforter of his bed, tugging at it and releasing it before she unraveled the whole damn thing. “I just got some really interesting news last night.”

“Okay. Good news or bad news?”

“I don’t know yet,” she answered, her bottom lip nearly scraped off by the ferocity of her teeth. She could taste the cooper tang of blood and she had to disengage before she ripped all of her skin off.

He settled on the bed beside her, not bothering to undo the laces of his boots, too preoccupied with the anxious way she was acting. “Well, from the look of your face, it looks like bad news. Want to talk about it?”

She laughed, a derisive bark erupting from her lips. “I think I’m going to have to. I don’t know yet if it’s going to be good news or bad news to you.”

They sat in silence for a moment until he broke the quiet. “Veronica, tell me what’s going on.”

She inhaled quickly, fighting for the last bit of strength that she would need to see this through. Without looking at him, her eyes focused intently on the carpet of his bedroom floor, she cleared her throat.

“I’m pregnant, Sweet Pea.”

The silence returned, engulfing them both as the sun shining through the bedroom shades began to dim as the afternoon wore off into night. They sat there for another good minute or two before she could hear the heavy sigh escape his lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing with her head toward the open bathroom door. “I’ve taken a number of tests. The last one is on the counter there if you want to see for yourself.”

He stood then, his booted feet clomping against the carpet as he crossed to the bathroom. He picked up the stick dangling off the side of the counter, bringing the result screen up closer to his eyes to decipher. Two pink lines. _Two pink lines._

Their future was written with two pink lines.

“Are you mad?” she squeaked from the bedroom, her eyes still glued to the floor.

More silence.

“No,” he finally spoke up. “I’m not mad.”

“I know this isn’t what we planned, and I certainly don’t expect you to put up with both me and a baby, but –“

“Wait, what? What are you talking about, Veronica?”

She could hear him cross to the bedroom, could see him kneel down before her as his eyes sought hers out. He broke her line of sight and she looked up to find two pleading orbs of brown, seeking her out, confusion sewn into his brow.

“I’m having a baby, Pea. I’m keeping this baby. I know you didn’t really get to have much in the way of say about it, but I’ve made my decision. I’m giving you an out if you don’t want to stick around.”

“Why would you think I don’t want to stick around? Do you really think I’d just up and leave you behind with a kid?”

“No,” she sighed. “That’s not what I meant, Pea. I just mean a baby wasn’t necessarily in the cards for us and I sort of thrust this decision upon you. If you don’t want to be involved, I just wanted you to know you had the option, that I wouldn’t be mad at you if that’s what you wanted.”

He placed a gentle hand on her knee and she realized for the first time that her legs had been trembling during the entire admission.

“Veronica, I know a baby isn’t something we’ve discussed before, and I can’t pretend like this doesn’t scare the shit out of me right now, but I really care about you and I can’t see… I can’t picture my life without you. If that comes with a little version of you, well, I don’t know if I could quite say no to that. I don’t want to let go of you. Besides,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool for her, “you know I’m always down for a new adventure.”

“I don’t know if I’d consider a baby an adventure,” she grinned softly. “More like a life changer.”

She peered up at him for the first time that evening, and he could see her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening with tears. A sudden thought occurred to her, trapped on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed back her fear and asked the one question that scared her most.

“Pea, do you think we’ll be terrible parents?”

He considered her fear, could hear the worry in her words. Her concern was not misled. Both of them had come from very different childhoods, but they felt the same longing for affection and sincerity that had been lacking. Sweet Pea had succumbed to the disparity of the foster system just after he had turned ten, following the death of his very ill mother who, though filled with love for her son, had been robbed of the energy to give him what he truly needed, riddled with disease and the regret of a life not fully lived. The Lodges, though incredibly wealthy with any resource required just at their fingertips, couldn’t manage to scrounge up the love and generosity that Veronica had craved as a child, leaving her wishing on some nights as her nanny tucked her into bed that the elder woman she called “Edie” was her real birth parent.

Both Veronica and Sweet Pea knew this particular connection had forged theirs even deeper, two people yearning for love finally able to give and get just the right amount from another person. But with a new baby, a third wheel to their well of love, Sweet Pea had to ask himself if he had enough space in his heart and enough depth in his tank to devote to someone else who would need him unconditionally. He knew Veronica held the same worries.

Still, he had to comfort her. It was simply what they did, hold each other through the nights that felt difficult, though they had been few and far between up until this point. He brought a palm up to cup her face, pulling her in a centimeter or two closer to his own, tenderly caressing her cheek with small strokes of his big thumb.

“Not a chance, baby. We’re a team, Veronica. We’ll get through this together.”

As much as he tried to assure himself with his own words, he was pleased to see her shoulders relax, hear the soft release of tension come out in a thin puff of air through her pursed lips.

“You’re right. Thank you, Pea.”

“You’re welcome, baby. Now… what are we going to do about your parents? Your father is going to fucking kill me.”

Veronica laughed through her gentle tears, pushing them away from her cheeks with her hands. Sweet Pea joined in with his own chuckle, shoulders shrugging lightly as his hand dropped from her face to settle on her thigh.

The three words he had been planning to say stopped themselves short just at the barrier of his lips, thinking maybe she had been shaken by enough emotional news for the day, and instead silenced them both with a soft kiss, leaning in to capture her mouth easily.

They kissed until the sun had fully set, falling into bed to curl up side by side, lips pressed against each other as they quietly disrobed and made love, the open blinds bathing them fully in moonlight as they drifted to sleep, arms and legs intertwined and minds melting into the same shared dream of a little yellow house with a giggling toddler running around, bows in her hair and mud on her face.

 

*******

 

The next day, when Sweet Pea walked through the dimly lit entrance of the Whyte Wyrm, the faint glow of the daylight seeping in through the slats of the wooden blinds along the walls, he found Fangs to his immediate right, smacking a series of round pool balls with a long stick and an echoing woop of victory. Tall Boy grumbled in defeat, handing over a fist full of bills to an eagerly awaiting Fangs, and stomped over to the bar to drown his woes with cheap whiskey.

“It’s a great fucking day, Pea. Fifty bones for kicking Tall Boy’s ass and Hog Eye’s offered to buy the next three rounds since I beat him twice earlier. I shouldn’t be an ass about it, but you know what?” He shrugged apathetically. “I’m totally going to be an ass about it.”

Fangs held out his pool stick for Sweet Pea to take. “Care to take on the reigning champ of the pool hall, slick?”

Sweet Pea smirked, shaking his head as he shoved the tip of the stick to the side. “I don’t want a piece of whatever shady ass hustling you’re selling as skill, Fogarty. I like my money where it is -- in my wallet or on the bar top. Speaking of, I see a tap with my name on it.”

He drug his feet over toward the long wooden bar, carved along the front with etchings of various Serpents intertwined and snarling, forked tongues stuck out nefariously and teeth sharp and pointed into the cedar. He planted his bottom on one of the stools, turning his body away from the pool table to call out for a beer toward Mustang, the Serpent tending the bar.

Fangs sauntered up next to him, folding his hands over the bar top as he looked over at his friend. “What’s going on, dude? You look like shit."

Sweet Pea snarled, tossing Fangs a quick glance as a pint glass filled with Coors Light was placed in front of him. “Gee, thanks. I just have a lot on my mind.”

Fangs pulled a stool up, settling down on the seat, considerably shorter than Sweet Pea as his feet dangled from the stool. “What’s going on? Things with you and your old lady falling apart? Cause you say the word and you know my sorry ass will swoop in on that delicious piece of woman.”

“I’m too torn up to kick your ass right now, so consider yourself lucky, Fogarty.” He sighed and took a long swallow from his beer, the cold liquid easing down his throat like a salve. “Veronica and I are fine, Fangs. I mean, we are for now. I have no intention of that changing, but something else is changing and I don’t know what the Hell I’m going to do.”

Fangs furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

Sweet Pea looked down the bar, catching Mustang’s eye and raising a hand in gesture for another beer. “You’re going to need a drink, Fangs. Cause this is going to affect you too.”

Fangs sat back on the stool, planting himself deeper in the seat. “What’s going on, Pea? This must be some serious shit.”

Sweet Pea took another gulp, forcing back the beer as he stared forward at the array of liquor bottles in front of him, focusing on anything other than the prying eyes of his curious and concerned best friend.

“Veronica’s pregnant, Fangs. We’re having a baby.”

He was greeted with silence, the well-shaven and tan-skinned man next to him seemingly at a loss for words as he took a drink from the beer placed in front of him. Fangs remained speechless for another breath before he turned to face Sweet Pea, his face decorated with a large and cheesy grin, his hand swooping up to grab hold of Sweet Pea’s shoulder for an encouraging shake.

“Dude, that’s awesome! You’re going to be a _dad_ , man. I can’t believe it! This is awesome news, man. Awesome news. The crew is going to be so excited.”

Sweet Pea scoffed, trying to imagine a group of weathered bikers and Harley enthusiasts cooing like school girls over a baby in the bar. “I don’t think they’ll really give a shit, honestly. I just have a hard time believing FP is going to be cool with me taking more time off from the club to take care of a new baby.”

“FP knows what it’s like to be a dad. I’m sure he would understand.”

“Yeah, well, ask Jug about it and you’d hear a different story. Plus, this is someone else’s kid, not FP’s, and I’ve already been spending less time around here and more time with Veronica. FP didn’t seem so thrilled when I told him I’d be late on my dues for next month.”

“He has to be a bit of a hard ass, though, Pea. He’s running this whole operation, plus he’s been going through his own shit. I know you haven’t been around much, and I won’t say the guys aren’t asking where you are when you’re not here, but you’ve got everyone’s support, including FP. You just need to chill. Everything will work out, brother.”

“I don’t know, man. Things were just starting to get _really good_ with Veronica. Throwing a baby into the mix… what the fuck am I doing? I mean, you know about my old man. How could I bring a kid into this life and not worry that I’m going to turn out just like him.”

Fangs snarled into his glass, thinking of the man who had abandoned his only son and sick wife the moment she got the diagnosis. “You can’t let that son of a bitch get in the way of a good thing, Pea. He’s long gone and you’re twice the man he was.”

Sweet Pea hung his head low, his hand coming up to cradle his temples. “It’s in my blood, Fangs. The fact that I’ve been so committed to Veronica is fucking astounding, honestly. It’s always been my M.O., just like my pops, to cut and run when shit gets real. There’s nothing more real than a kid, man.”

Fangs shook his head as he took another swig of his beer, wiping the back of his mouth with the leather cuff of his jacket. “Shit, I hope you were a better actor for Veronica because your reaction right now straight up sucks.”

“Of course I was much more enthusiastic for her. She really means the world to me and I’d be a Goddamn fool if I let her go. Her having a baby doesn’t change that.”

Fangs shrugged. “I mean, it’s kind of sexy when you think about it. At least, I’d be turned on if some hot chick I was feeling told me she was having my baby.”

Sweet Pea smirked along the rim of his pint glass as he took another swig. “I thought you were into the less feminine variety this season?”

Fangs scoffed. “I swing however the Hell I feel, man. I can’t help it if I have a big heart.”

Sweet Pea chuckled. “Big heart… right.”

“Wait -- you said this was going to affect me? As excited as I am about you having a kid, what does that have to do with me?"

“Well, we haven’t discussed the specifics or anything, but I’m sure I’ll be asking you to be the godfather of my kid, though God help me, there will definitely be days where I’ll probably question that decision.”

“Me too. I’ll be the first to say I’m surprised to even be considered. I would have figured you’d have gone with Betty and Jughead.”

“Veronica’s probably going to ask Betty, but as close as I am with Jones, you and I grew up together. With all the shit we’ve gotten ourselves into and we’re still standing, at least I can know my kid will be in some lucky hands.”

“No shit,” Fangs chuckled. “If we can survive that night drunk as Hell on the tracks by old man McMurray’s place, there’s no doubt I’d be a safe bet sober.”

Fangs held up his pint glass, holding it out to Pea. “A toast to the luckiest sons of bitches in the whole of Rockland County.”

Sweet Pea clanked his glass against Fangs’ and they both chugged the rest of their beers. As Sweet Pea slammed the glass back down on the bar, he cleared his throat noisily.

“What the Hell have I gotten myself into, Fangs?”

“The best Goddamn adventure of your life, my friend. Now, how about we test my luck and you try and whip my ass in pool? Fifty bucks says you fucking choke.”

Sweet Pea punched him playfully in the shoulder, happy for the distraction. “You’re not that lucky, Fogarty. Game on.”


	3. Month Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink. 
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I wanted a bit more time to tailor some details and to double-check some of my references, plus I wanted to post my little SweetVangs smut tryst in the “SweetVee Bedtime Series” collection, but I am back with new TPiP content that I hope you all will enjoy.
> 
> As I’ve mentioned in the past, I do my best to research all of the material for my work, especially all of the medical details in this particular chapter. It’s part of my personal profession to know these details but some information can slip through the cracks, so I apologize if anything appears off. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me (constructively) on tumblr with your suggestions or info! 
> 
> I want to take a minute to also remind those of you reading that this version of SweetVee is just a little bit different than my normal SweetVee. Things are a little bit tenderer, (hopefully) a bit more realistic, and though there is some definite spice these two are certainly gentler than other versions I’ve written. It is my hope, though, that you still enjoy them, even if they deviate a bit from my Domestic!SweetVee head canons too.
> 
> So without further ado, here is Month Three! I hope you catch ALL the feels!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

**Month Three**

 

It was a bright and sunny Tuesday morning when Veronica and Sweet Pea found themselves waiting nervously in the fluorescently lit appointment room. They were scheduled for their first obstetrician visit after the pregnancy had been confirmed, and Veronica was doing her best not to rip apart the paper lining of the bed beneath, her fingers digging into the mattress as she tried to temper her anxiety. Beside her, Sweet Pea stood, too nervous to sit, his hands busy fiddling with an odd black scope-looking tool that hung on the wall.

“How long is this doc going to be? I thought your appointment was scheduled for nine?”

“It was, Pea,” Veronica replied, craning her neck over her shoulder to face him. “She’s probably finishing up another visit. What’s your rush? I thought you told FP you were taking the day off.”

“I did,” he said as he pulled off the plastic piece on the tip of the scope, earning a reprimanding glare from Veronica. Like a child that had been caught, he carefully put the piece back on the scope and hung it back up in its holster on the wall. “I just don’t want you to have to sit here for hours. You should be home, resting.”

“Pea,” she smiled tenderly, touched at another of his recent attempts to tend to her needs. “I’m fine. It’s still early and I’m not as tired as I was a week or so ago.” She sighed, a bit relieved. “I’ve actually hit a spurt of energy now that the nausea has subsided.”

“Still,” he answered, stepping closer to her to lean down and kiss the top of her head, “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She tilted her chin up at him with another grin, and their lips met in a slow and gentle kiss. As they were pulling apart, a woman with bleached blonde hair and wrinkles around her eyes stepped through the door, glancing at the chart in her hand.

“Good morning, folks. You must be Miss Lodge.” She tucked the chart under her arm and reached out to take Veronica’s hand to shake, extending it to Sweet Pea next. “And you must be daddy? John Culpepper?”

Sweet Pea grew a bit pale around the edges of his face, but he nodded and took her hand for a firm shake. “I am. I go by Sweet Pea.”

“Got it. Well, I’m Dr. Jeanine O’Dell. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m glad you two are here.” She clapped her hands together with a smile on her face. “How about we check on our baby?”

Veronica relaxed a little, leaning back into the bed as she settled her head on the thin pillow. Dr. O’Dell was a highly respected and recommended obstetrician in town, all of her personal reviews from friends from college practically glowing. Her warm yet powerful presence felt familiar to Veronica, and instinct told her she was in good hands.

“Okay, so let’s see here. We’re just over 11 weeks in, is that correct?” She sat down on a black leather-covered rolling stool before helping Veronica to peel up the hem of her loose fitting black t-shirt, her stomach beneath still somewhat flat but for a slightly rounded curve toward the bottom just above her groin. Dr. O’Dell placed two gentle hands on Veronica’s tummy and began to feel around gingerly. “Should be time to determine the sex soon, if you two plan on finding out.”

Veronica turned her head to the side, looking up at Sweet Pea for back up. “I think we’ve decided against learning the gender. We want to be surprised.”

“What’s another surprise, right?” Sweet Pea joked, though it fell more flat than intended.

“Well, I think that’s a perfectly fine route to take. People went centuries having babies without finding out the gender, so there’s nothing wrong with waiting until the big day.” Dr. O’Dell pressed down a little firmer, earning a slight wince from Veronica. “Does that hurt?”

“No, just a lot of pressure. I’m finally adjusting to keeping a full stomach after about a month of throwing up.”

“How does the rest of your body feel? How have your sleeping habits been?”

Veronica shrugged against the paper lining of the bed, the crinkling sound echoing in the tiny office room. “I’ve been sleeping okay. No problems there yet.”

“And your sex life?” Dr. O’Dell pried. “Any sensitivities there?”

Veronica and Sweet Pea both sighed, laughing at each other in return. “Definitely,” Veronica answered. “It hurts when I’m touched in, well, certain areas of my body.”

“And that’s completely natural,” Dr. O’Dell explained as she pulled the shirt back down over Veronica’s stomach. “Regular sensation will return here within the next month or so. Your breasts may stay tender, but the rest of your body should feel better, if not better than before.”

For the next few minutes, the three adults discussed other pertinent matters, such as the prenatal schedule Veronica would need to adhere to, what the best foods and vitamins were for consumption to produce a healthy baby, and the plan for their next visit, when Veronica would have to determine ultimately what her birthing plan would be.

Dr. O’Dell then pushed her stool away from the exam table and stood. “Okay folks,” she announced, her tone overly excited. “I’m going to go grab the ultrasound machine really quickly so we can hear the baby’s heart beat for the first time.”

Veronica could hear Sweet Pea’s faint chuckle beside her as the doctor exited the room. “Well, that wasn’t awkward at all, asking about our sex life.”

Veronica smiled, biting her bottom lip as she turned to look at him. “Well, I’m sure she knows by now we are having sex, or trying to at least. What do you suppose she thinks we did to get here in the first place?”

“Alright, smart ass,” he replied, and was rewarded with Veronica sticking out her tongue in a tease. He leaned in to capture her tongue with his teeth playfully, and she squealed as their mouths met. They continued kissing, the warmth between her legs growing for the first time in days, and she laughed to herself internally, thinking maybe she had spoken about her discomfort at being touched too soon.

When they heard the door creak back open, they quickly pulled away from each other like teenagers being caught in the act, and Veronica blushed thinking how silly it was that she felt compelled to kiss her lover only in private. Again, the doctor knew exactly how they had landed in that office to begin with.

“Okay, are we ready to meet baby?”

Veronica nodded as she settled back comfortably onto the clinic bed, settling her hands subconsciously over her stomach. Sweet Pea settled into a chair, sitting up straight and alert beside her.

“Veronica, I’ll need you to lift your shirt back up for me, please. Just below the breast line, if you will.”

Veronica did as the doctor requested, lifting the hem and tucking it just below the cups of her bra. She could feel her heart rate began to increase, her anxiety and nerves hitting her as the doctor reached into the gel holder on the side of the ultrasound machine for the lubricant.

“This gel is going to be cold, so I apologize in advance. I’m just going to put a little line of it here below your belly button and press down with the transducer. You might feel a little pressure, but it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”

Veronica nodded and flinched a bit as the cold gel was spread onto her stomach. She watched as Dr. O’Dell reached for the transducer wand hanging off the side of the machine and placed it over her abdomen. She could feel the forewarned pressure and was grateful she had emptied her bladder just before her appointment.

Beside the bed, the screen was angled for both her and Sweet Pea to see. At first, there was nothing but darkness, a black screen outlined by a few brushes of gray streaks with no discernible shape. The screen held a slight glare, and Dr. O’Dell quickly stood to remedy the problem, flipping the light switch off near the closed door before returning to her seat. She resumed the path of the transducer over Veronica’s stomach, the screen more illuminated with the fluorescents dimmed, and Veronica felt like she had been holding her breath the entire time.

And then, suddenly, her lungs seized and relaxed as the echo of a heartbeat and the faint shape of a fetus appeared from the screen, and Veronica felt her whole world shift.

“There it is,” Dr. O’Dell announced happily, a smile evident on her lips from the tone of her voice. “There’s your baby.”

Without thought, without looking, Veronica reached down to her left, searching for Sweet Pea’s hand. He had been caught doing the same, seeking her out with his calloused fingers and rough palm. When their fingers collided and clung, they both felt a little jolt of excitement rush through them, their hands glued together as their eyes were stuck to the screen in front of them, the little flicker of a heart beating wildly in a sea of black and gray.

“That’s it?” Veronica heard herself whisper, amazement clouding both her mind and words.

“That’s it,” the doctor confirmed. “That’s your little boy or girl. It has a very strong heartbeat, very loud and very prominent.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Sweet Pea questioned, his tone edged with nerves.

“It is,” she answered, moving the transducer to the left and right of Veronica’s stomach in slow, easy movements. “A healthy baby typically has a faster heartbeat than an adult simply because the heart itself is smaller and requires more work to keep the fetal circulation stable. You want it about 110-160, and this little one here is clocking in at around 120 beats per minute.”

“Wow,” he mouthed, his eyes still set on the screen and the blurry image of the fetus turned in profile view. “Does this test hurt the baby in any way?”

Veronica and Dr. O’Dell both smiled at Sweet Pea, amused by his inclination to toss aside common sense at the first sign of fear, as the doctor shook her head. “Not at all. The test itself is noninvasive, and the image is based purely on the soundwaves from inside the mother’s womb. The baby is not harmed at all. In fact, you’ll have one of these done at every visit from now on as we will want to check on the growth and overall health status of the baby, to monitor the heart rate and check for deformities –“

“Deformities?!” Sweet Pea rushed, his eyes finally coming loose from the screen to face the doctor. “Is that common? Is that something you see a lot of in this office?”

“They are incredibly rare, Mr. Culpepper,” Dr. O’Dell assured. “From what I can see from these images here, the baby looks very healthy and its growth pattern right on track with where it needs to be. I’m going to have a print out of the pictures I saved laid out for you by the front desk, so make sure to pick up your copy when you schedule your next appointment. I think having the images at home will help to keep your mind at ease.”

“Thank you, Dr. O’Dell,” Veronica muttered while she worked to pull the hem of her shirt back down over her stomach after the doctor had wiped her skin clean of the cold Doppler gel.

Dr. O’Dell swiveled back in her stool as she hung up the transducer wand, wiping it clean with a wipe from a plastic canister dangling from the back. She put all of the parts of the machine back in their rightful places before shutting down the ultrasound itself, standing from her stool to wheel the Doppler toward the door.

 “We’re also at the point in your pregnancy where we will need to run a few blood tests, just early detection for possible disorders or risks. I’ll have the nurse come in and collect the blood sample from you, and then you two should be free to go. Do you have any other questions from me?”

Veronica looked at Sweet Pea to confirm before she shook her head in response. “I think we’re good for now, Dr. O’Dell. Thank you.”

“You are welcome, and congratulations! You’re on your way to having a healthy baby, and we’re going to do everything we can to get you there. I promise, it’ll be the best and most exciting adventure of your life.” She offered them both a warm smile before she gathered her clipboard from the countertop. “It was a pleasure meeting you both, and I will see you in about three to four weeks.”

Veronica sat up from the bed, shaking off the paper liner that clung to her back, and readjusted her clothing accordingly. Beside her, Sweet Pea seemed nearly shell-shocked, his eyes somewhat wide and staring at the wall where the ultrasound machine had been moments before.

“That was crazy,” he uttered, his eyes finally meeting hers, wide and brown and curious. “I can’t believe we just saw our kid, all from some machine running across your stomach.”

“It’s pretty wild,” she agreed, feeling nervous all of a sudden. The entire moment felt too real. When the sound of the baby’s heart had echoed loudly in the room, bouncing off the walls in a thrumming cadence of swooshing and drum beat noises, it took a moment for it to finally sink in that those sounds were coming from the actual child that remained in her womb, that she could lay a hand on her stomach and know the little being in there was alive and thriving and _real._

“I guess I’ll have to tell my parents,” she grimaced, the actuality of the baby coming with the bleak reality that she could have to come clean to her mom and dad before her body gave her away. “It’ll be better if we do it early, rip the band-aid off before it’s too late and I’m the size of a house.”

She reached for his hand again, its presence disappearing somewhere after the ultrasound machine had been turned off and she was righting her clothes. When he looked at her again, she felt her stomach begin to drop.

“It’s too late for me to turn back now, but are you sure you’re up for this? And I don’t just mean the baby. I mean everything that comes with it – me, my history, my calculated parents and their overbearing nature? Are you sure you’re willing to give everything else up, the freedom of your time and all that entails, for the ‘deluxe Lodge package’?”

He leaned in slowly, his lips reaching for her cheek as his neck dipped in low toward her. When his mouth touched her skin, she felt her entire face flush up with pink and heat, the warmth of his gesture filling her spirit with hope.

“Like you said, baby – it’s too late to turn back now.”

 

*******

 

Veronica looked out from the passenger side window of Sweet Pea’s pick-up as the spectre of her parents’ summer house in Greendale appeared around the corner, a monstrosity of brick and mortar with four large white colonial-style columns looming over a well-manicured lawn of green. Every window of the home glowed orange and yellow from the many light fixtures Veronica knew the house to own, all signs pointing to life inside but Veronica felt nothing but dread.

The American flag whipped in the gentle breeze of the evening air, her father’s intense sense of patriotism, or rather the mask of honor, on display for all the neighbors to see. Sometimes, Veronica would look at the blatant show of American pride and sneer, knowing her family’s white-collar background blanketed the symbol of mercy and blue-collar might the flag was meant to protect.

While she couldn’t curse the privilege she had been granted in life, there were times she still felt so separate from her parents who allowed wealth to run them both like a well-oiled expensive machine. Everything about their life, about their house screamed opulence. The wrought-iron of the front gate, the archway of ivy leading to the backyard, the porcelain figurines that stood polished by the front door, all of them on display behind a sturdy brick fence that beckoned neighbors to look at what they might never have.

A suburban fantasy that the Lodges lorded over everyone else on their block.

The truck sputtered to a stop, the rust orange exterior an eye sore by the well-groomed sidewalk in front of the house. Sweet Pea manually cranked up the window to his side, muttering something about the threat of rain, but Veronica knew he was talking out of nervousness.

This was the first time her family would be meeting Sweet Pea and, as a cherry on top of a very shaky sundae, they were going to break the news about the baby.

She could already see her father’s reaction now – cold, calculated stares shot at an unsuspecting Sweet Pea, a manipulative offer after dinner of enticing brandy in his study where they could talk “family.” Though she and her father had their differences, Hiram Lodge was _fiercely_ protective of his daughter, and any event that happened away from his normally watchful eye that threatened to tear at the threads of his plan for Veronica had the potential to throw the patriarch into spiteful territory. There would be no immediate love there.

Hermione Lodge, the matriarch with more brains than her looks might appear, would most likely handle the news with grace and a smile, a flicker of her wrist toward the kitchen staff for a fresh bottle of champagne to celebrate, before cornering her daughter in a vacant room later to barrage her with the frantic concerns of a mother who didn’t agree with her child’s choices. She’d be easier to assuage initially, but harder to convince overall.

“You ready, babe?” Sweet Pea asked to her left, and she turned to face him, greeted with a fine look of terror in his wide brown eyes. She reached out with a comforting hand, placing her palm gently on his cheek to cradle, before leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

“You’re going to do just fine, Pea. My parents are going to love you,” she lied, knowing full well the reality that they would face when they stepped through that wide oak door. “Just remember my dad is a fan of the Yankees and my mom loves compliments almost more than good wine.”

Sweet Pea nodded. “Got it.”

Veronica released her hold on his face, leaning over in her seat to grab from the floor a large paper bag filled with a casserole dish of fresh fruit and a moist yellow sponge cake for dessert. Veronica offered to bring more, but her mother wouldn’t hear it, rattling on over the phone earlier about some new dish the cooks had come up with that they had to try.

By the time she had turned back around in the truck, Sweet Pea was crossing around the hood to open her door, pulling at the latch with a deep click, the door squealing on its hinges as it opened wide for her to exit. Veronica took his offered hand and climbed out of the pick-up, careful not to drop the dessert on the cement sidewalk and grass underneath her.

The two traveled hand in hand up the sidewalk, a show of solidarity as they neared the closed front door, its etchings curved and incredibly delicate for such a large piece. Veronica could feel her heart begin to beat faster, could feel Sweet Pea’s pulse race against her thumb, and for a moment she found comfort in the fact that they both felt nervous together.

As she reached up with an outstretched finger, she took one last silent gulp and exhaled a slow breath as she deployed the doorbell, its loud organ sound resonating from within the house and through the walls.

Sweet Pea squeezed her hand, his own show of support, and they waited with bated breath for the front door to open.

They didn’t have to wait long, the over exaggerated overjoyed face of Hermione Lodge appearing as the door swung open. Her mother was decked out in a deep burgundy, her dress stopping just shy of her kneecaps, encasing two well-toned legs tipped with a pair of expensive high heels. Only Hermione Lodge would wear heels casually inside the house.

“Veronica, _mija_ , I’m so happy to see you.” Hermione leaned in deep, arms outstretched, the sparkle of a diamond tennis bracelet momentarily blinding Sweet Pea before he watched her embrace Veronica warmly. He thought the two women could be sisters, were it not for the toned down clothing Veronica now wore. One look from her mother told him Hermione was not used to seeing her daughter so informal.

“My love, what are you wearing?”

Veronica looked down at her simple sundress, a pale blue speckled with red and white roses, and form-fitting denim jacket, her brow furrowed together.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Hermione blanched for a moment before she caught herself and offered her daughter an easy smile. “Nothing, _mija_. I guess I’m just not used to your new…. look. It’s rather… relaxed.”

“Thank you,” Veronica replied, her eyes rolling subtly as she breezed past her mother into the foyer. She turned on her smart pair of wedges and smiled at Sweet Pea. “Mother, this is my boyfriend, Sweet Pea. He’s been looking forward to meeting you and daddy.”

Sweet Pea was about to extend a hand for Hermione to shake, but he halted, watching as she beat him to the punch, a dainty tan offering with fingers fanned downward, a large and formidable wedding ring on the fourth finger. He understood the gesture, taking her hand and pressing a friendly peck on the back of her knuckles.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lodge. Your home is very beautiful.”

Veronica smiled to herself, pleased Sweet Pea was making such a good impression already. She continued onward toward the kitchen, ready to drop off the dessert, when she was intercepted by her father, dressed to the nines in a formal suit and tie and dress loafers.

“Daddy,” she said with a grin, caught off guard by her sudden excitement. No matter what she thought about her father’s business antics, she had always been a classic daddy’s girl. She wrapped her arms around his midsection and smiled against his chest when she felt his strong arms encase her.

“ _La flor_ ,” he replied, pressing a tender kiss on the top of her head. When he released her, he held her out for him to see. “You look even lovelier than the last time I saw you. How do you get more beautiful with each day? You are truly your mother’s daughter.”

Hermione and Sweet Pea appeared behind them, the matriarch approaching her husband for an affectionate kiss. “She has been blessed with my good looks, indeed. Hiram, our daughter brought us someone special she’d like us to meet.”

Veronica saw Hiram visibly stiffen as he caught Sweet Pea’s eye, but the lapse was momentary and Hiram was quick to bounce back, his tense face erupting in a well-practiced wide smile in greeting.

“Hiram Lodge,” he offered, extending a firm hand for Sweet Pea to shake.

“Sweet Pea. Thank you for having me in your home, sir. Veronica has spoken of your estate very fondly. You are quite an impressive man, Mr. Lodge.”

Hiram smirked, gripping Sweet Pea’s hand a bit tighter before releasing it. “There will be time for pleasantries later in my study. Let’s all enjoy a glass of wine in the dining room as we wait for this dinner Hermione has arranged. I hear it’s going to knock your socks off.”

Veronica grinned, looking between her father and Sweet Pea, pleased the temperature was holding steady. The foursome made their way into the dining area, a long table with the formal setting placed over its wooden surface, and Sweet Pea parked next to Veronica. As he settled into the stiff wood of the dining chair, pushing himself in tightly, he felt suffocated, reaching for the collar of his button-up to loosen.

Veronica squeezed his thigh under the table reassuringly, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You look nice, Pea.” He grinned back at her, thankful for the gift of the new shirt and slacks she had picked up for him the day before. Initially, he had been a bit miffed, thinking she had been ashamed of his usual attire, but now being faced with the Lodges in person he could see the need for a more formal outfit.

“So,” Hiram cleared his throat, lifting his wine glass that had been pre-filled by some unseen staff member. “Is Sweet Pea a family name?”

“No, sir. My birth name is John, John Culpepper. Sweet Pea was a nickname given to me by my mother when I was a baby. It sort of stuck and I decided to keep it after she passed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hiram replied, taking a sip from his cabernet. “How old were you?”

“It was shortly after I turned eleven.”

“How incredibly unfortunate. And your father? Is he still alive?”

Sweet Pea stiffened, his hand itching for the glass of wine perched in front of him. “He is, but he isn’t around. He ran off shortly after my mother died.”

Beneath the table, Veronica’s hand on his thigh tightened supportively, and he knew she was trying to give him strength.

“A man not worthy of the title. I’m sorry to hear that,” Hiram continued. “That must have been difficult, working to provide for yourself at such a young age. What line of work are you in now, Sweet Pea? What kind of income do you accrue?”

“Daddy…” Veronica replied with a warning tone.

“It’s an honest question, _mija_ ,” he replied, lifting a hand gently to address her. “I think a father has a right to know if his daughter’s boyfriend has the potential to provide for her should things between the two of you grow serious.”

“It’s okay, Veronica,” Sweet Pea nodded, clearing his throat. “I totally understand where you’re coming from, sir. I recently took up a position with Andrews Construction Company as one of their crew hands. We’ve been working on a particular lot up by the tracks, a new shopping center near Greendale. I also fill in every now and then at an automotive repair shop on the Southside.”

“A blue collar man,” Hiram replied with a careful nod of his head. “This country was built on the backs of laborers, and I commend you for choosing that path. It can’t be easy.”

“I do what I need to in order to meet my needs.”

“So you work on the Southside?”

“And I live there, in my own home.”

“Do you have an affiliation with that part of the town?”

“Well, sir, I happen to be a member of the Southside Serpents.”

Hiram pursed his lips as he paused the interrogation to stew over his wine. “The Serpents, is that right?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been a member since I turned 18. FP Jones took me and my best friend in when we broke out of the foster system.”

“So you were adopted?”

“No sir. I bounced around from home to home a lot when I was a teenager, but when the time came for me to become a legal adult, I branched out on my own. FP was the first person to give me a break, the first person to give me a legitimate job at the repair shop, and even managed to help me out with the loan for my house.”

“Which you mentioned is also on the Southside?”

“It is.”

“Well, I commend you for owning real estate at your age. It can’t be without its challenges, providing for yourself and running a home on one income.”

Sweet Pea shrugged. “I make ends meet. I like the kind of work I do and I enjoy my time with the Serpents. We treat each other like family and we help out when we need to. If I need a little extra cash, there’s always somebody who needs help with carpentry or automotive junk. I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Again, a worthy choice. Though if you need extra cash, investments are truly the way to go. Bonds, stocks, business dealings, the political network of business, all very effective choices at acquiring wealth. Lodge Industries is what keeps this house looking so pristine and those expensive clothes on my daughter. Tell me, Sweet Pea – do you feel you have what it takes to maintain Veronica’s lifestyle? It doesn’t come cheap, let me tell you.”

“I think I do just fine,” Sweet Pea clarified, his tone leaning toward defensive. “And I haven’t had an issue yet providing for Veronica.”

“It’s an equal partnership,” she chimed in, reaching for Sweet Pea’s hand on the table. She smiled at him as her fingers folded over his.

“As it should be,” Hermione agreed, taking a sip from her own wine. “That’s how your father and I have managed our lives together, isn’t that right Hiram?”

“It is, _mi amor_ , and I simply wish the same for my only child.”

“Sweet Pea works very hard, daddy, and I haven’t gone wanting during our time together. He treats me like a princess, even when I know I’m being a brat.” The table chuckled, Veronica just barely missing the calculated look Hiram threw their way as he watched their hands embrace and the couple exchange loving glances at each other.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, taking another sip of his wine before the table commenced with their meal.

Hermione had arranged the staff to bring out a pork tenderloin roasted and braised in a white wine reduction with rosemary and thyme, along with garlic herb red potatoes and fresh asparagus in a Gruyere sauce. The table chewed back their food as conversation was kept to a minimum, Veronica catching her mother up in between bites on the latest of Betty’s wedding plans and the mother-daughter drama between the Cooper women.

It wasn’t until Hermione finally mentioned Veronica’s negligence of her wine that the youngest Lodge woman finally realized it was time to come clean to her parents. She dabbed her mouth daintily with her napkin and cleared her throat. Next to her, Sweet Pea reached for her thigh, squeezing it gently under the table as his own gesture of strength and support.

“Mommy, daddy – I have some news. Well, _we_ have some news, actually.” She looked over at Sweet Pea and he grinned nervously at her in solidarity. It was just enough to bring to her inhale heavily, her shoulders rising as she gathered up the courage, and turn her head to face her father.

“Sweet Pea and I are going to have a baby.”

The entire table was silent for the briefest of seconds, pure bliss compared to the red spreading from the base of Hiram’s neck upward toward his brow, which furrowed deeper and deeper as the silence continued. Next to him, seated across the table from Sweet Pea, Hermione remained frozen, her lips poised just centimeters from the rim of her wine glass. Finally, she took a heavy sip and set her glass down on the tablecloth, readying herself for the tirade that would inevitably come.

“You son of a bitch…” Hiram uttered through a thick throat, his eyes panning over to Sweet Pea. His mouth was pressed together tight as if he were trying to muster the patience, but it seemed he was losing an impossible battle. “How could you do this to my daughter? How could you be so careless with something so precious?”

“Daddy, it’s not all his fault. That’s not fair,” Veronica retorted, her hand reaching down toward Sweet Pea’s, which remained glued to her thigh. When he felt her fingers land over him, he flipped his palm up and intertwined their fingers together. She felt the unease lift just an inch from her now tense shoulders.

“How can you say it’s not his fault? He’s supposed to be a man, supposed to be responsible and respectful. Instead, he’s gone and ruined you, knocked you up and left you with a child you can’t possibly take care of on your own.”

“Sir, I understa –“

“I didn’t say you could speak,” Hiram cut him off, his face growing redder and redder through the tan shade of his skin. He held up a hand to silence Sweet Pea, but still the Serpent persisted.

“I just want to say I have no intention of going anywhere. I love your daughter and have no plans to just abandon her.”

Next to him, he could feel Veronica’s gaze turn to him, could sense her awe and joy radiating off of her in a room filled with stiff and volatile air. It wasn’t exactly how he intended to tell her he loved her, but he didn’t know how else to defend her honor and defend their relationship to a father Sweet Pea could tell would accept nothing less.

“How can you know anything of love? Your idea of family includes running around with a bunch of gangbangers and drug dealers. Don’t think I’m not aware of the Serpents’ reputation. It’s my job to know the population I’m servicing and its surrounding areas, plus it’s my job as a father to keep my daughter safe and protected. Maybe one day you’ll actually understand what that really means.”

Veronica could feel Sweet Pea stiffen beside her, could sense his hackles going up as he was gearing up for the defense. This dinner was already going from uncomfortable formal interrogation to an all-out verbal brawl, and dessert had yet to be served.

“Those Serpents you speak so poorly of have shown me what it means to be a man, what it means to truly care for one’s own. It is because of their guidance and their support that I’ll be able to give Veronica the kind of family she deserves, the kind of family that truly has her back when the chips fall.”

“Are you insinuating me and my wife have been unfit for my own daughter? Look around you, boy. Everything you see, everything you touch, the food you’re eating right now came from my hard work, my wife’s diligence and support. You come into _my_ home and suggest I can’t provide for my own flesh and blood, that your little band of bikers can beyond any means I might meet?”

“With all due respect, your daughter found her way to that little band of bikers on her own, and they’ve welcomed her with fewer questions than I’ve experienced in the hour we’ve been here. Veronica doesn’t have anything to prove with the Serpents. She’s with me, and that’s all they need to know.”

“Well, obviously that’s not good enough for me and neither are you good enough for my daughter. Veronica is an intelligent, well-bred woman with a smart head on her shoulders. She’s meant for greater things than being your breeding mare.”

“Daddy! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Silence, _mija_!” Hiram shouted back at her, his hand now aimed in her direction to halt her speech. “I will not have this insolence in my household.”

“You taught me to be outspoken and I haven’t forgotten. Sweet Pea is a good man, _papi_. He takes good care of me, and I of him.”

“I’m sure he’ll do whatever he needs to in order to get a hold of your inheritance.”

Veronica blanched, feeling as if she had been slapped in the face by her father’s words. Sweet Pea began to rise from his chair, but she pushed him back down with a firm hand on his hip.

“How can you say that, daddy?”

“Have you not listened to a single word he has said? I can only imagine how enticing you appear, coming from a family of wealth, to a man who has to work himself to the bone to afford his livelihood.”

“You’re twisting everything around. How can you even think Sweet Pea would only be with me for my money? You break my heart.”

“As you have broken mine, _mi_ _nina_. As I am sure you have broken your mother’s as she has been left speechless this entire time.”

Hermione’s eyes stayed focused on the plate in front of her, yet her fork did not move, the food untouched as she remained silent. Her brow dipped inward in pain, her lips glued together as she kept her mouth shut. Veronica felt the stab of hurt radiate through her chest as she willed her mother to look at her, but Hermione remained icy and distant.

She hadn’t expected her own mother to be so cold in response to this news. She thought her mother would have been supportive, would have been the one to push her father to see reason, but Hermione was as good as absent, her chilly demeanor the only indicator she was present at all.

“I have no need for your daughter’s money, and I don’t appreciate being seen as a charity case,” Sweet Pea seethed next to Veronica, his fists clenched and shaking in his lap. “I’ve done just fine on my own without anyone else’s assistance, and that’s exactly how I’ll stay.”

“Well, then, good for you because as long as you two remain a couple, I cannot condone the relationship or supply it with my well-earned money.”

“Good, because I refuse to take it,” Veronica replied, her features now set and firm as she stared down her father.

“I will, however, spare you a little mercy, as you are my daughter,” Hiram glazed over her reply, continuing on with his speech, “by paying your way out of this little mess he’s gotten you into.”

“What do you mean?” Veronica asked, wary of her father’s offer.

Hiram took another sip of his wine, his demeanor more relaxed now that he felt he had the proper solution to their problem. “I mean, I will help to take care of the matter. I know a good doctor in town who will work out a deal with me, keep everything discreet and between those here at this table.”

“A doctor? What do you –“ Veronica instantly shut her mouth before she gasped, suddenly realizing the context behind his gift. “You can’t seriously think I intend to get rid of this baby?”

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Sweet Pea snapped next to her, finally shoving away from the table to tower over his plate. His brown eyes bore into those of Hiram Lodge, who sat a few feet away from him at the end of the table. Hiram seemed unfazed by Sweet Pea’s reaction, giving off the illusion of a cooler head prevailing.

“Daddy, no,” Veronica answered, hoping to settle the matter quickly before things turned aggressive. Sweet Pea had done well up to that point to keep his composure, but Veronica knew he had a limit, and when it was breached there would be no turning back. “I’m not giving up or getting rid of this baby, and that’s final. I’ve made my decision, I’ve thought this through, and Sweet Pea and I are going to raise it together.”

“Without my help,” Hiram replied stubbornly and Veronica felt her heart crack.

“Without your help,” she replied, jutting her chin out in defiance. She could feel the tears begin to well in her eyes, but she did her best to push them back. Her father would lose the little bit of respect he had left for her if she broke down in front of him like her body wanted her to.

“And without my money. Where do you presume you’re going to live while you continue to wallow in sin and defy my wishes, Veronica?”

“We don’t need you, Mr. Lodge. I have a house and a steady income, and we’ll raise our child there together. I can more than provide for Veronica and for our baby, and we’ll have a family filled with more loyalty than anything I’ve seen at this dinner table. The Serpents may not have the squeakiest of reputations, but they’d die before they cut someone off like this.”

“I think you’ve said enough, boy,” Hiram replied through gritted teeth, settling his hands over the napkin in his lap. “I think it’s best if you both get out of my house right now.”

“Gladly,” Sweet Pea replied, taking a step back from the table. “Come on, Veronica.”

The Lodge daughter remained in her seat, willing her mother with frantic eyes to look at her, to speak up in her defense, but she was greeted with nothing but more silence. She thought to appeal to her father again, feeling the scurrying motion of concern and fear run through her system, but she knew how Hiram Lodge worked. He was a very proud man, and he taught her to be a very proud woman. She’d lose his respect as his progeny if she groveled.

“Okay,” she replied, settling her napkin down over her plate before she stood. The confrontation had exhausted her emotionally, and she could feel the fatigue settle in her joints. Suddenly, all she wanted was to be as far away from this house as possible, and in the comfort of Sweet Pea’s arms as they drifted to sleep.

She knew walking out the front door would be a very final move on her part, the nail in the coffin of her relationship with her parents.

_But what choice do I have?_ She asked herself. She didn’t want to give up Sweet Pea, and she had grown so attached to that little heart beat within her that she’d rather chew her own arm off than get rid of it. She’d have to walk away from one damaged family in order to embrace another.

Veronica took one last look at her mother, her eyes firm and her mouth settled in a thin line. “I expected better from you, mommy. I’ll never forgive you for this.”

She turned her attention back to her father. “Goodbye, daddy.”

And with that, she strode out of the dining room, Sweet Pea in tow. She reached back for his hand to find it was already reaching for hers, and they walked out of the house with their fingers intertwined. When the door shut firmly behind them, and the evening wind blowing across her face like a welcome caress, Veronica felt the tears suddenly give away and cascade down her cheeks.

Sweet Pea remained quiet as he opened the door of his truck for her, waiting until she had climbed aboard and was settled inside before he shut it behind her. He crossed in front of the hood toward the driver’s side and yanked back the door a bit more forcefully, the anger and frustration still mingling in his bones.

They sat without movement for a solid minute, listening to the crickets chirp outside and the spray of the sprinkler system as it watered the Lodge lawn.

“I’m sorry, Veronica,” Sweet Pea finally spoke, running his ragged and shaky hands over his tired face. “I shouldn’t have snapped at your father like that.”

Beside him, she shook her head, her fingers nervously twiddling themselves as they remained folded in her lap. She traced her thumb subtly over her belly, feeling the small hint of a swell just above her belly button.

“You had every right to say what you said. My father was being an ass and he had no cause to say what he said about you and about the Serpents. He doesn’t even know you.”

“And now he never will,” he sighed. “And he’ll never know this baby. That’s my fault.”

“No. That’s his own. It’s his choice to alienate us and his future grandchild because of his own stubborn pride. As much as I want them both in this baby’s life, I can’t risk them hurting our family because of their own assumptions.”

“Our family,” Sweet Pea repeated with a small smile on his face. “I like that.”

She turned to face him, her own smile reflecting his. “Me too.”

They leaned in to meet in the middle of the truck’s bench seat, their lips pressed tenderly together as love sparked gently through them. When they broke apart, Veronica tilted her head to the side and laid a soft hand atop Sweet Pea’s.

“Did you really mean what you said in there?”

“Did I mean what? I meant a lot of what I said in there.”

“About me and the baby living with you? About you providing for us?”

Sweet Pea’s brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t believe she would question his words. He shifted in his seat to face her better. “Of course I meant it. Veronica, how else do you suggest we raise a baby together? I want us to be a _real thing_ , the whole package. I want to come home to you, to wake up next to you. I want our baby to have a home with people who love it.”

This time, the tears that filled Veronica’s eyes were of joy, her heart squeezing in her chest as she felt the butterflies rise in her stomach. “Really?”

“Yes, baby. I want it all with you. You, the Serpents, this baby – I have a chance to have a real family with you, _we_ have a chance to have a real family together. None of this elitist bullshit with a fake concept of loyalty that you’ve been dealing with here. Baby, I’m not going to abandon you.”

“Oh, Pea,” she whispered, utterly touched, and leaned in for another kiss, deeper and more meaningful than the first.

“You’re my everything, doll. Don’t forget that,” he muttered against her lips, his eyes closed and relaxed, as they slowly pulled apart.

As she leaned back into her seat, reaching for the seat buckle that hung by the side of the door, she froze as another thought ran across her mind. “Did you mean that other thing?”

His brow rose in question. “What thing?”

She bit her lip nervously. “When you said you loved me.”

He smiled simply and looked deep into her brown eyes with his own with a softness that began to melt her brain and heart. “I _do_ love you, Veronica.”

She felt her heart lurch forward as the air left her lungs. Never had she felt so happy and so hopeful, especially after the disastrous dinner that had just occurred between the two of them and her parents.

“I love you too, Sweet Pea,” she finally managed to squeak out, her throat thick with more tears and bright, colorful emotion.

She pushed back the belt she still held in her hand and scooched closer to him, wrapping her legs on either side of his body as her palms found the side of his cheeks. She looked him in the eye, willing him to see all the love she held for him there in her sea of chocolate brown.

“How did I get so lucky?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

“I think we both hit the jackpot, baby,” he replied, leaning in to capture her lips.

They sat there for another few minutes, lips locked and legs pressed tight together as she straddled him softly. The moment was tender, intimate, and gentle. With every second that passed, their mouths still mingling and warmth still wafting between their close bodies, she thanked each and every star that had put him in her path.

When they broke apart, their chests rising and lips slightly red and bruised, she could still see the love there mixed with the lust in his eyes as he searched her face, tracing every inch of her smile with his mind.

“Let’s go home,” he said quietly, and she nodded, leaving one more peck against his lips before she climbed back into her own seat. He turned the ignition of the truck as she buckled her seat belt back over her lap, and they drove off into the night, leaving behind a history in tatters in exchange for a future filled with light and hope.


	4. Month Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink.
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the second trimester, folks! I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I've been dealing with a hectic personal schedule, and really wanted to make sure this chapter was up to the caliber I set for myself when I write. I hope you enjoy Month Four and all its splendor! A special thank you to those who have sent me asks and comments, reaching out about updates and how much you genuinely like this story. It makes this writer feel very, very good, so I thank you all tremendously!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

** Month Four **

 

“You should have seen the look on my face when she pulled out those gowns. I thought she must have been joking,” Veronica explained as she pulled back the thin plastic liner of the shower curtain. Sweet Pea made room for her to settle near the spout of the faucet, watching as she reached down for the handle to turn on the water.

Since that night at the Lodges’ for dinner, life between the two of them had never been more domestic, their connection furthered by a series of moving boxes and a few select pieces of furniture that she had sent over from her apartment to his house on the Southside. She made herself quickly at home, adding a few light touches here and there that he had never considered until his house was under scrutiny of her keen and decorative eye.

Still, Veronica did her best not to step on his toes when it came to rearranging parts of the interior, and in the end they had done a lot of compromising, something they both observed was a positive sign of things to come.

_Maybe we **can** raise this baby together,_ she had said proudly with her hands on her hips, sweat dribbling down her forehead as it poured from his temples, his entire body aching from all of the moving around of her things.

Harmony had been restored and his house soon became a home with the two of them in it, but every now and then a matter like Betty’s wedding would come up, and Sweet Pea would have to remind himself the pros of living together when some nights he just wanted to pull his hair out.

In the shower, Sweet Pea tried not to roll his eyes, thinking to himself how little he cared about Betty’s choice in bridesmaids gowns. He knew the matter was important to Veronica, though, so he did his best to hide the disinterest in his voice. Life at his residence had been mostly peaceful since she moved in, and he wasn’t about to start rocking the boat.

“Maybe she just really liked the shade?”

Veronica steamrolled right past his reply, and he was thankful thoughtful input was not warranted while she ranted. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and let her continue on.

“I’m not quite sure why she picked pastel pink for a summer wedding, but I’m telling you, Pea, I’m going to look like the bloated belly of a salmon during the ceremony. The shade couldn’t be more unflattering for the figure I’ll have in two more months.”

Sweet Pea finally rolled his eyes, albeit playfully, as he lathered the shampoo into his hair, peering down at Veronica inches from his chin, her short stature giving him an ample view of her growing belly and swollen bosom. They hadn’t peaked over night, but he could still notice the changes in her breasts, the darkening of her nipples and the fullness of their weight when he would cup them in his hands.

She would bitch and moan about the extra padding, but he couldn’t imagine a time where he felt more turned on.

He certainly wasn’t complaining either that deep into her fourth month and the beginning of her second trimester, her sex drive came back, and in full force. It seemed every day he came home, she was there, ready to jump his bones and make his eyes roll into the back of his head. The first week after their first doctor’s appointment had been touch and go, Veronica’s sensitivity still heightened to uncomfortable levels, but once her hormones adjusted and her body became more responsive, she was nearly unstoppable.

Now with the nausea gone, her appetite back, and her sex drive through the roof, Sweet Pea felt she was finally at a point where she could just sit back and enjoy the journey of her pregnancy, and he could enjoy the fruits of her hyperactive aroused state.

However, there was still a spot of gray on the sunshine of her moods. With each week that passed, and as her body began to grow and her belly spread, she became more and more self-conscious about the way she looked. The morning her jeans were starting to pull taut around her waistline, he could recall the look of sadness and disappointment on her face, the way she groaned and complained about her belly becoming too big for her wardrobe.

Betty was a big help. She managed to keep Veronica’s spirits up, using this as an opportunity to promote more shopping, which was one of Veronica’s favorite pastimes. Sweet Pea, on the other hand, felt at a total loss, not quite sure of the right things to say or do to keep her from plunging into a pity pool of upset feelings and disgust. The only way he knew how to comfort her and show her just how beautiful she was becoming was by showing her – with his mouth, with his hands, with his teeth and tongue and tortured cock that was quickly becoming more a tool to soothe her worries and less just about getting his rocks off.

Still, he wasn’t complaining.

He sidestepped her to stand under the spray of the shower, the two of them doing a domestic dance within the porcelain confines of the bathtub as she moved out of his way so he could rinse out his soapy hair. Somewhere in the echo of the bathroom, the speakers connected to her phone rang out in a pop hit nearly drowned out by the sounds of the shower.

He closed his eyes and worked the suds out of his locks, digging into his scalp with his thick, long fingers. He used the opportunity of keeping his mouth closed, not desiring a mouthful of Veronica’s lavender flavored shampoo as it cascaded down his forehead and cheeks, to think of a way to tread lightly around the issue of her weight. One wrong move and he’d be camped out on the couch, high sexual appetite or not.

In the end, he went with simplicity, the usual blunt Sweet Pea way.

“I’m sure you’ll look fine, Veronica. You could be wearing a paper bag down that aisle and still be a total knockout.” He wiped away any remaining suds and droplets of water from his eyes before he opened them to stare down at her. He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly for emphasis.

She smiled, just a touch, enough to make him feel as if he were getting somewhere with her. It always turned into an argument when she got too wound up in her head, and looking down at her beautiful tan body naked in the shower, a fight was the last thing Sweet Pea wanted.

“I think you’re a little biased, Mr. Culpepper.”

“You know me – I don’t bullshit anyone. Not even you, princess.”

“ _Now_ you’re telling the truth,” she quipped back. She reached down for the bottle of shampoo perched on the corner of the tub, squirting a dollop into her palm before bringing it up to lather into her thick black hair.

“I’ve been telling the truth this whole time,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’ve always been the most gorgeous woman in the room, Veronica, and I don’t think a few extra pounds is going to change that. Especially considering the circumstances. I don’t know how anyone will be paying attention to Betty when you’re there.”

Veronica’s face softened and her shoulders relaxed, unknowingly carrying a brick of tension between her blades, weighted down by her own insecurity and uncertainty.

“You really are amazing, Pea,” she muttered, her lips curling up for a tender smile. He leaned down with wet lips, still glistening from the spray of the shower, and delivered a soft peck to her awaiting mouth. When they pulled away, she lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“I’ll make sure not to tell Betty you said that.”

“Please don’t,” he chuckled. “Jones has been driving me nuts lately, and the last thing I need is him riding my ass, picking fights about insults I made about his old lady. Besides, I think I’m finally getting on Betty’s good side and I’d hate to tarnish that.”

Veronica scoffed. “How in the Hell did you get on her bad side in the first place? She’s friendly with everybody.”

“It’s not that I’ve been on her bad side. I think she was just scared of me when she first starting coming around the Wyrm. Plus, I’m the one that put a bright black shiner on her boy toy’s right eye when he first joined the Serpents, and I don’t think she’s forgotten about that.”

Veronica laughed. “That’s the thing about Betty – once she holds a grudge, you’re screwed.”

“Great,” he replied sarcastically, shifting around so she could stand under the spray to rinse.

“She’d probably never forgive me if I told her I couldn’t be her maid of honor,” she sighed. “But who would want a fat whale waddling around behind them on their big day?”

“Veronica,” he warned with a heavy exhale.

“I know, I know,” she replied, closing her eyes as she tilted her head back to wash the soap from her hair. “It’s just been on my mind, Pea.”

He watched as her arms came up to assist in stroking the shampoo out of her midnight black tendrils, pushing her chest out as her back arched. Her breasts were on full display, her perky nipples collecting water droplets as they poured from the spout onto her body, and he licked his lips with both lust and admiration.

He knew what he had to do to ease her concerns before she began to spiral out and do something the normal Veronica would never allow – lose confidence in herself.

“It’s going to be okay, babe,” he tried to soothe, hoping his simple words would chill her out. Somewhere in the background, the radio changed to Kendrick Lamar’s “LOVE” as he lowered himself to his knees, feeling the spray caress the top of his head, as his hands drifted up her thighs to land on her stomach. He pressed a gentle kiss just above the navel, looking up to watch her brown eyes close and the crown of her head tilt back again, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her lips curving up into a small grin.

“Trying to get you to relax,” he replied, kissing her stomach once more, and she knew this one was for the baby. She felt her heart squeeze inside her chest and the apex between her thighs grew warm and wet for him, the tenderness of his actions turning her on in that strange way she never expected.

His lips traveled down to her belly button, pressing his warm mouth against the nub of flesh that protruded from its little cavern, the telling sign of a progressing pregnancy, and all he could think about was the baby inside her, _their baby_ , and how close he felt to it in that moment. That simple barrier of womb and skin kept them separated, and despite the sensual nature of his visit below her waist, he couldn’t ignore the simultaneous pang of fear and the stroke of excitement that rushed into him at that moment.

Her hand came down to card the wet strands of his black hair, barely guiding him as his mouth traveled lower, more kisses planted beneath her navel as he led himself down to her center, already moist and throbbing with need. He pressed a simple kiss at the top, tongue flicking out briefly at the bundle of nerves and the stubble of hair that had begun to grow back.

Veronica folded inward, her hand digging deeper into his scalp, suddenly overtaken with the overly sensitive sensation of his mouth where she ached and the embarrassment of knowing her grooming routine had gone untended for longer than normal.

His hands came up to grip the back of her thighs to hold her still.

“Sorry, I know it’s not the tidiest right now,” she started to ramble, but he cut her off with a quick squeeze of one of her ass cheeks.

“Shhh, Veronica,” he answered, his mouth pressing gentle kisses along the inside of her thigh. “You will always look sexy to me no matter how hairy you get.”

She chuckled, the easiness of the moment blending with the heat. “We may have to get you a machete if I go for too long.”

He laughed, his lips brushing against her skin with the movement of his chest. “It’ll all be worth it just to make you come.”

His mouth moved directly over her entrance and he dove right in, the punctuation to his vow to see her fall apart, and she couldn’t help the gasp and long groan that slipped past her lips, her body already squirming in his grasp.

“Mmm, someone is really sensitive,” he muttered into her flesh before his tongue drug itself from the bottom of her core to the top, gathering a mouthful of her juices to slurp back.

“Oooh,” she breathed out, her chest already rising and falling quicker than normal. “It’s… it’s the… the hormones,” she replied in staccato, her words disrupted by the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on her sex, feeding from her in gentle waves and rolls of his tongue.

He nibbled softly on the outer part of her lips, tongue dipping out to soothe before probing her entrance in quick flicks. She moaned out his name in a soft whisper, her hand joining the other fingering the thick hair covering his scalp.

“That feels so good, Pea,” she breathed into the mist of the spray, her head still tilted back, the water from the shower head dripping down to pool in the divot of her closed eyelids. She could feel every single sensation, her nerves on overdrive, and it didn’t take long before she felt the urge to cross the bridge into climax.

“I’m… I’m…”

She didn’t have to say the words for Sweet Pea to know she was tipping over the edge, the quivering of her folds and the light tremble of her thighs a clear indicator she was about to orgasm.

“Already, baby? Damn,” he hummed against her, pushing a series of vibrations through her system that traveled from her core up her spine to shatter like stars behind her eyelids. When she called out in the tiny confines of their shower, his name springing from her lips like a prayer, he felt the painful twitch of his cock, hot and ready from the steam and his desire.

All he wanted was to stand tall and push her up against the slick tiled wall, driving his dick deep inside her until he found his own release, spilling his seed into her thrust after thrust, but this moment was all about her. _It had to be all about her._

It took a while to sink in, but Sweet Pea was starting to realize just the kind of strong woman he was holding between his hands, her thighs still quivering from her come down. The tumultuous relationship with her parents, the business of moving her things into his tiny house and building a home with him, all while growing a human, _their_ human, inside her as it fed from her energy, fed from her body – he was amazed by her.

If he could show her one ounce of his gratitude, take away one minute of that burden so she could relax, he’d press his lips against her and give her pleasure until her well ran dry.

His mouth dove deeper, ceaseless in his efforts to make her feel as good as possible. He lapped her up, drinking back the creamy liquid that seeped out of her channel to drip onto his tongue. She always tasted so good, but there was something about her being pregnant that flavored her come, giving it an essence of tang and sweetness he had never experienced there between her thighs.

“I want you…” she whispered, her mouth wide open as she released a heavy sigh into the steam above them. Her fingers in his hair gripped tighter through sheer need, her body reacting to the waves of pleasure streaming through her and the desire to feel him close to her, deep inside her, coming with her.

“Not yet, baby. This is all about you.”

“But I _want you_ ,” she groaned. “I need you, Pea. I need to feel you right now.”

His mouth only assaulted her deeper, earning a loud cry as she crashed around his tongue again as it plunged her depths, the pulsation of her walls echoing around the thick muscle of his mouth that ate her out. And still she whimpered “more.”

His dick was painfully hard at this point, the sounds of her mouth and the taste of her essence driving him so wild, he felt like he was drowning. He released his hold on her legs, careful to make sure she didn’t wobble to the ground, and stood to meet her, the hard chiseled planes of his chest pressing against the supple skin of her firm and aroused breasts.

His mouth dipped low to take a nipple in, teasing it gingerly with his tongue, aware that they were super sensitive to her to the point where they could be painful. He wanted her to only feel wonder and pleasure, aiming to gently lap and swirl around the pebbled skin instead of tugging on her like he was so used to. When she coughed on the water caught by her open, groaning mouth, he couldn’t help the grin that he pressed against her breast.

“That feels so damn good, Pea,” she mumbled, rivets of water pooling out of her mouth from where it had collected. “But I need to feel your cock.”

He growled around her nipple, releasing it with a pop and a light tug, enough to make her cry out. Without another word or sound, he directed her back toward the slick shower wall, lifting one leg up to anchor around his hip as he led his cock directly to her fluttering entrance. With one smooth stroke, he plunged inside her, pumping in and out long and slow, driving her to dig her nails into the flesh of his back.

“Christ,” they both said together, the tightening of her walls and the thickness of his cock warring in a duel of sexual symphonies that sang the most enticing song. He drove into her with a tempered pace, careful not to be too hard but aware that she liked it a little rough, especially with how powerful and intoxicating her orgasms had been of late.

Her leg wrapped further around his waist and he lifted her bottom up to give her a little more leverage, deepening the angle of his cock inside her as he continued to fuck her strong and steady.

“Fuck me good, baby. Make me come. Make me come all around you, baby,” she pleaded in his ear, their faces pressed close together as she pulled him nearer with the crook of her arm around his neck.

“I’m trying, sugar. I’m trying so hard not to come too soon. You feel so fucking good, Veronica, _so fucking good_.”

She moaned in response, his filthy words turning her on more and more, and she could feel herself begin to splinter apart.

“I’m coming, Pea. _Ooooh_ , I’m coming. Come with me, please baby. Please come with me,” she begged, her voice low and heavy as he began to fuck her with sharper strokes, pushing himself all the way into her silken heat like a snug glove.

He could feel his balls clench and tighten and he knew he was another good pump away from finishing, joining in her climax with a loud cry that echoed around the tile walls of their shower. He spilled inside her, the warmth of his finish smearing down the inner part of her thigh when he pulled himself out of her, the fleshy and limp mess of his cock covered in them both.

Still, he held her close, making sure her feet were steady as he slowly lowered her leg and foot to the ground. He kissed her on the neck and just below the ear, her favorite sweet spots, but these were of the tender nature, reassuring and loving, pleased that he could help to relax her when she had been on edge.

“I love you, baby,” he kissed into her lips, pulling back to rinse off the evidence of their sex under the spray. He reached down and grabbed the loofa sponge from around the shower knob and for the next five minutes they finished bathing each other, sparing a tender kiss or two in between each scrub.

 

*******

 

Veronica peered into a bin of tightly pressed t-shirts, all just big enough to cover her spread out palm, dainty in fabric but each with their own unique baby-themed slogan.

_Little nugget. Gangsta napper. I drink until I pass out._

Veronica was amused by them all, but still something didn’t feel right. The phrases didn’t fit with how she envisioned dressing for her child, whether it be a girl or a boy. There were a couple of fart jokes thrown into the bunch that she knew Sweet Pea and Fangs would have gotten a kick out of, but the winner still hadn’t been found, and she continued to pilfer through the bins, hoping to run across a single onesie that made her break out in nervous excitement.

“What about this one?” Betty asked as she held up a tan onesie with the phrase _iPood_ on it. “Get it? Like iPod? I think it’s funny.”

Veronica smirked at her friend’s simple nature and tendency to find even the smallest jokes silly. “A bit too realistic, don’t you think? Plus, it’s not my style.”

She perused another bin, running her hands through the layers until she stumbled upon one that pulled a laugh from her lips. “Don’t you think Pea would like this one?”

The onesie was black with the picture of a pacifier, coupled with white script that read _Little Mother Sucker_ on it. It hit all the right notes of Sweet Pea’s humor and was a bit more appropriate than the shirt with a smiling sperm on the front.

“Oh, Veronica,” Betty chided. “And where would the baby where it? The Wyrm?”

Veronica shrugged. “I think it’s kind of cute,” she mumbled as she slipped it into her handbasket, stepping over to another table a few feet away with another large selection of onesies and infant tops. She continued to peek through the stacks, tossing a package of tiny socks and a few decorative burp cloths into the basket with the onesie.

“This baby would be so much easier to shop for if you had chosen to find out the gender,” Betty hinted, her tone playful as her brow rose in Veronica’s direction.

“Pea and I wanted it to be a surprise,” Veronica answered, rolling her eyes. Since telling her best friend of their decision to stay in the dark until the time of the birth, she had been pestered with questions and requests to let Betty sneak a peek at the reveal tucked into a sealed envelope, locked away in a cabinet in Pea’s bedroom.

“I know, I know, but I just really want to know!” Betty squealed with excitement. “I’d have so much more fun shopping if I got to exclusively pick through the little girls or little boys section. Right now, I feel like I’m just taking a shot in the dark with picking out the right clothes.”

“They all look the same for the first few months anyway,” Veronica shrugged. “If it’s a girl, we can toss a pretty bow in her hair when she comes home from the hospital, and if it’s a boy we’ll leave the bow off. Now, when it’s about two, three months old, _that’s_ when the fun starts. I have so many ideas, Betty. Sweet Pea is going to kill me when he sees the nursery closet I have planned in my mind.”

The two girls giggled and chattered on, both of them wrapped up in the reverie of a dapper little boy or a precious little girl donning fashionable designs that only a mother like Veronica Lodge would make her child wear. Veronica knew she would have to tone down some of her ideas, but when it came to clothing it wasn’t hard for her to get carried away.

Veronica was rounding another table, her eyes still peeled, seeking out a few choice options before taking her basket up to the register, when behind her she could hear Betty’s audible gasp and squeal.

“I found it!” she exclaimed.

Veronica turned to find Betty clutching onto a onesie, pale beige in color, with a stenciled black motorcycle on the front, the words _BORN TO RIDE WITH DADDY_ framing the bike. In an instant, Veronica knew that would be the onesie she would take home proudly to Sweet Pea. If it involved motorcycles, it was a sure guarantee he was going to love it.

“It’s perfect.”

“Isn’t it? There’s no doubt in my mind Sweet Pea will flip when you show this to him.”

“Oh absolutely,” Veronica agreed. “It’s simple and not too flashy. It mentions bikes and the word ‘daddy.’ How could he not?”

They had their purchases rung up and folded in two medium-sized paper bags, both dangling from a wrist as the girls strolled out of the shop and began walking toward another baby boutique down the street. Veronica’s stomach was rumbling, the hunger pains of pregnancy triggering the part of her brain that craved chocolate croissants and shrimp salad, the smells from a nearby café caressing her senses as they breezed past.

Betty and Veronica were rounding a corner, laughter on their lips as they joked about Veronica’s appetite compared to that of Jughead’s, when they both halted in mid-step on the pavement.

Five feet away, decked out in her latest pair of Manolo Blahniks, Hermione Lodge stood stock-still, her mouth slightly hung open as if there were words left frozen on the tip of her tongue, her breath stolen away in surprise. The burgundy of her pencil skirt clung to her olive skin, yet her face seemed pale with worry. In her hands, she clutched onto the thick leather straps of her COACH handbag, her knuckles nearly bone white from her grip.

“Veronica,” she gasped after nearly running into her daughter.

“Mother,” Veronica replied once she caught her bearings, her tone low and tinted with warning.

It had been a few weeks since the disastrous dinner at her parents’ house, but Veronica was not bound to forget how easy it was for them both to dismiss her baby and dismiss her boyfriend. She was especially hurt, though, at her mother’s behavior. Hiram could be explained away, his tendency to control every inch of their household affairs potent and consistent. Hermione’s silence, however, had haunted Veronica as soon as she had stood and stomped out of the dining room. It wasn’t like the matriarch to hold her tongue.

“I…” Hermione glanced from Veronica to the ground and back up, then over to Betty. “Oh, hello there Elizabeth. It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Lodge,” Betty replied, a bit weary of the tension that was beginning to build there on the sidewalk.

Hermione’s shoulders had relaxed somewhat during her exchange with Betty, relieved that she had someone nearby who didn’t look at her like she was dirt on the bottom of their shoe, but when she rounded back on Veronica, she audibly inhaled with anticipation.

“Veronica, I… I want to apologize for the way I acted the other night. Your father said some horrible things to both you and Sweet Pea, and I should have stood up for you. I just… I was just so caught off guard by the news, by you telling me I’m going to be a grandma, and,” she hesitated, doing her best to collect her composure as her daughter glared her down a few feet away.

“And maybe one day you’ll understand what I mean when I say in those few minutes, all the fear and worry I’ve ever held for you came rushing into me. You’re still so young, Veronica, and unmarried. I know you like this boy – “

“I _love_ that boy,” Veronica corrected, her brows leaning in with irritation.

“But you two are unwed and still so brand new to each other. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but just two people in a serious commitment is burdensome enough. Adding a child into the mix, a baby? I just want you to be safe, _mija_. I just want you to be _smart_ about this.”

“I am, mother. I’m doing the best I can, plus it’s not like I’m some knocked up teenager. I’m an adult, nearly 30 years old and not getting any younger. I’ve met somebody that genuinely cares for me, someone who didn’t run or curse me out or cast me aside when I told him we were expecting a baby. We _are_ being smart about this, mother, and my mind is not going to change about that.”

“You have your father’s pride and my stubborn head, Veronica,” Hermione muttered as she shook her head admonishingly. “Try to push that aside for just a minute and understand where I am coming from. I just want the best for you. You’re my little girl, my precious baby and your father’s princess. He’s too proud to say he’s sorry right now, but please know he doesn’t mean to push you away. And I’m sorry for not speaking up at dinner. I just couldn’t look at you, Veronica.”

“I know the feeling.”

“I mean it. I’m terrified for you. Not because I don’t think you’re capable, _mi amor_. You’re a Lodge woman and you’ve never not been successful at anything you’ve put your head and heart into, baby. I’m terrified because I love you.”

Veronica watched as her mother’s bottom lip began to tremble, Hermione’s rich brown eyes filling to the brim with tears as she fought to look her daughter in the eye. “I’m scared I won’t have enough love for both you and this baby. I love you so much, _mija_. How can there be enough love in one person’s heart for two when my love for you is all-consuming? You have always been my first priority, Veronica. What if I can’t put my grandbaby first?”

“Mom…”

Hermione brushed a tear away as it escaped down her cheek, quick to maintain her composure as the three women stood on the public sidewalk.

“But I’m going to do my best, my love, if you’ll let me.” Hermione reached into her handbag, pulling out a thin box of dark gray felt with a stark white bow tied on the top lid. She held it out to Veronica, who accepted it with hesitant fingers.

Veronica stared down at the box for a solid five seconds, a cocktail of emotions filtering through her system – annoyance at her mother’s signature move of sweeping problems under the rug with material goods, joy at receiving a gift that was sure to be genuine, and confusion about where to go next with their relationship. She was still so angry with her mother, still so let down and disappointed that her own flesh and blood had abandoned her when she needed her most. However, fate’s intervention of their run-in and the sincerity in her mother’s tone had Veronica questioning whether or not forgiveness was truly off the table.

“It took me a few days to come to my senses, but I picked this up a couple of weeks ago at Giuseppe Jewelers. I thought it could be an early gift for the baby.”

Veronica’s fingers remained frozen on the package, torn between opening it up there on the sidewalk or waiting until she got home where she could properly break down in tears or rage, depending on the present inside. She felt the warm touch of a hand on her shoulder, and she turned her head to the left to see Betty offering a gentle smile for support.

“Open it, V.”

Veronica nodded, turning her attention back to the box, lifting the top lid slowly to reveal a pair of genuine pearl bulbs on the end of silver rods. They sparkled beneath the warm yellow light of the afternoon sun, glittering almost like a grin as Veronica stared down at them.

“They’re earrings…for the baby,” Hermione explained. “I thought the pearls were a nice touch. Like mother, like daughter.”

Veronica cleared her throat, a sudden lump finding its way there to constrict her breathing and words. “We actually don’t know if it’s going to be a girl or boy, mom. Pea and I have decided to wait until the baby is born to find out the gender.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied, her tone a bit deflated. “Silly me. I guess I just always pictured you with a little girl. Still, you should hold onto them… just in case.”

“I will,” Veronica replied without thinking, closing the lid before looking back up at her mother. She offered a light smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood for another thirty seconds in silence, the echo of the cars whizzing by beside them and the chatter of various songs coming from open windows the only sounds that surrounded them. Veronica knew her mother had been right when she said she got her thick head from her, and she supposed it had been difficult for Hermione to admit to herself that she had messed up. Through the haze of irritation, the hormones and the fatigue that plagued her body, Veronica mentally threw up her hands in surrender.

“Thank you for apologizing, mother. And again, I appreciate the gift.”

“I wanted to give it to you days ago. I just couldn’t find the right time.”

“I know. And I know it can’t have been easy for you to say what you’ve said. I appreciate your apology and accept it.” She took another breath before continuing. “And if you’d like to give this another try, and play a more active role in this baby’s life, I’d accept that too.”

Hermione visibly relaxed, her face erupting into an emotional smile as she stepped forward, arms outstretched, and pulled Veronica in for a hug. The raven-haired twosome clung to each other, slowly at first but then deeper, there on the busy sidewalk of Riverdale’s Main Street, Betty standing by a few feet away with tears in her eyes.

Eventually, the threesome collected themselves and gathered at the café for a late lunch and cocktails, Veronica choosing a creative mocktail of ginger beer and sliced fruit on ice, and they gabbed on and on about Veronica’s pregnancy up to that point and all the joy to come. Hermione shared her own gestation stories from before Veronica was born, tossing out random tips about nipple creams and the perfect stretch for a better night’s sleep.

Veronica felt a jagged piece of the tension and fatigue wearing her down lift there in the bistro with her mother, relieved to have finally found some forgiveness and common ground, anxious for a fresh start. As much of a collected front as she tried to put on, Veronica knew in the next four or five months she would need the support of her mother, a woman who had been through what she was about to go through, a strong and classy figure who could guide her and love her and encourage her.

When the lunch was finished, and Veronica excused herself to go home and do some quality post-shopping napping, she found herself grateful for the day’s turn of events – a reunion with her mother, who she’d always been close to, and a shopping bag filled with new clothes for her little one.

As she settled onto the mattress of her and Sweet Pea’s bed, not bothering to pull down the covers as her knees came forward to tuck in by her stomach, she felt the first flutterings of something magical within her belly, and she fell asleep with a single joyful tear slipping past her eyelid.

 

*******

 

Veronica hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when Sweet Pea was reluctant to welcome the idea of Hermione back into their good graces. They stood together, facing off in the kitchen that evening, as they bickered back and forth about what it meant to forgive her parents who had both let her down in very different ways.

“I don’t get it, Veronica. That woman wanted nothing to do with you as soon as you told her about the baby. You were visibly upset, and for good reason. I don’t get why you’d want to just sweep that all under the rug and move on.”

“That woman is my mother, Pea, and I aired out my grievances with her on my own. You don’t have to accept her apology. You have every right to be pissed until she has the chance to come say she’s sorry to you personally, but in the meantime I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“And let her disappoint you all over again? Veronica, you’ve told me countless times how much she and your father harp on you about your own personal business. They have no right to go snooping through our life and getting involved if they’re going to treat you the way they did at that dinner. I won’t have it.”

“Pea,” she responded, dropping the knife onto the chopping block next to a section of diced tomatoes to plant her hands on her hips. “What do you expect me to do? _Not_ have my parents be involved in our child’s life? They’re my parents, for Christ’s sake. This is their grandbaby. Would you deny your own parents the same right?”

In an instant, Veronica wished she could take back the words as she watched his face darken, his features pulled together in a snarl.

“That’s not fucking fair, Veronica, and you know it. But I’ll tell you, while my mother was alive, never once did she talk to me the way your father did, and I would never have expected her to talk to you like that either, had she been given the chance to meet you. And my father? That piece of shit? He will _never_ get a chance to meet this kid, by his own doing or mine. Our situations are _not_ the same, Veronica, and that shit is not equal.”

“Pea, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, watching as he pulled back the door to the fridge with a rough yank, reaching in for an available amber bottle of cold beer. He maneuvered the top off with a quick snap and tug, tossing it aside carelessly in the direction of the trash as he pulled from the longneck with a long chug. When he was done, he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his dirty work shirt and crossed toward the kitchen doorway.

“It’s fine, Veronica. It’s not worth arguing about right now, not in your condition.” He finished the beer with another solid swallow or two, setting the bottle on the counter with a loud clank. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m just going to head up to the Wyrm, cool off a bit. Save me some dinner in the fridge?”

He stepped back toward her and kissed her on the temple, a consolation for the heated argument as a show that things were okay. He knew she’d worry and obsess if he left on an uneasy note.

He didn’t wait for her response, walking through the back door in the kitchen and out toward the front yard to climb aboard his bike. He needed to get away, just let out some steam with his boys at the bar. His disappointment at her willingness to roll over and let Hermione back in had gotten under his skin more than he wanted to admit. There was a part of him that reveled in the idea of the two of them conquering their situation together, with no help, just them against the world. He knew it was a selfish thought, a baby part of that world that they had to conquer, but still it had brought a bit of the adventure back that had been dwindling since the news of her pregnancy.

He took off down the street, not even bothering to put on a helmet, anxious to feel the cool sunset breeze whistle through the strands of his thick black hair. Anxious to feeling daring, anxious to feel free, anxious to feel alive again without the weight in that house bearing down on him.

Inside the kitchen, Veronica watched from the window as Sweet Pea peeled out of the driveway and in the direction of the Whyte Wyrm.

“You’ll come around,” she muttered to herself, her brain flooded with worry that he might never understand how much she needed to forgive her mother, and potentially her father.

Veronica finished up the makings of a taco salad and devoured it uneasily, her stomach tied in knots as a result of their fight. Though she knew he had tried to make amends with the simple kiss, there still was a nagging feeling tugging at her brain, and the silence of their dining room as she sat alone was booming.

By the time Veronica had cleaned the kitchen and crawled back into bed for the night, Sweet Pea was still missing. His side of the bed felt emptier than normal, the pillow fluffed and dent-free, the sheets almost sterile without a trace of him. She ran a hand over the fabric, wishing he would just come home and wrap her up in his arms, making promises in her ear that everything would be alright.

As much as she needed her mother, she knew she needed Sweet Pea more.

As she drifted off into fitful slumber, she thought of the onesie she had purchased earlier that day, still unseen by her boyfriend. She had left it out for him by his nightstand, no note or any indication of what it was for, but she knew he would get the message.

This baby was very real and they would need to work together for the sake of their child.

 

*******

Around one that morning, when Sweet Pea snuck back into the house and under the covers of their king-size bed, he cursed himself as he watched Veronica’s face scrunch up in her sleep. Though he had felt mounting disappointment coming home eighty bucks shorter than he had left with, thanks to Fangs’ cunning ability to hit three pool balls into different pockets with one stroke, it couldn’t compare to the disappointment he felt in himself knowing he had left her all alone that night to tend to his own minor emotional wounds.

She looked so pained, yet so beautiful, her hair the color of midnight pooling around her shoulders and over her collarbone. She wore a simple nightdress, its shade navy blue and bold against the white cotton of their bedsheets, her elbows locking the comforter in tight against her as they curled up toward her chest, her fists resting just beneath her perky pink lips.

He wanted to lean in and capture her mouth with a soothing kiss, to put her woes to rest so she could sleep better, but he thought it best to not disturb her. Instead, he rolled over to switch off the bedside lamp, his eyes falling upon a swatch of cloth folded into a neat pile by his alarm clock.

He slid the fabric from the nightstand, gripping it in between his fingers as he brought it up to his eyes for a closer look.

On the front was a picture of a motorcycle with the words _BORN TO RIDE WITH DADDY_ stenciled onto the cloth. When he unfolded the material completely, watching as it grew just slightly bigger than his hand, he realized with a heavy heart that she had bought a onesie for the baby and had intended to show him. Instead, she was forced to leave it out for him to find for himself, his actions leaving her no choice. He had left her alone and she had bought him a gift.

The shame washed over him, and immediately he regretted even going to the Wyrm in the first place. He should have stayed behind, should have made amends with her as quick as possible, and then made love to her over and over again, showing her just how special she meant to him.

He should have been there for her to show him her purchase. He could picture her smiling face as she would have held the onesie behind her back, practically bouncing on her toes to show it to him. He knew she would have been nervous, but her potent Lodge genes would have kept her composed and joyful as she held out the clothing for him to see like a prize, something cute she thought he’d like for their baby to be decked out in. The logo alone told him she intended this onesie to be all about him.

He cursed himself under his breath as he set the onesie back onto the nightstand, switching off the lamp with the flick of his fingers, before easing himself back into the sheets. Sleep came slowly for Sweet Pea, his eyes eventually falling heavy with the last image in his head of a baby with black hair swaddled in a motorcycle jacket and goggles, a beaming Veronica bouncing him on her hip before holding him out like a prize for his daddy to take.

 

*******

 

Around nine the next morning, Veronica arose with heavy eyes, her eyes falling upon the edge of the bed and onto the carpet below where she spotted Sweet Pea’s discarded jeans and Serpent jacket on the floor. As she realized he had finally come home, she recognized the weight of his heavy hand draped over her hip, settling gently over her belly. Though the air of their argument still remained, she felt relief knowing he had made it home and back into their bed safely.

She toiled with the idea of rolling over to watch him sleep, one of her favorite pastimes since they began sharing a bed regularly, but didn’t get a chance to as the arm around her hip tugged her closer to the firm chest behind her.

“G’morning,” he whispered gruffly in her ear. His breath was hot and thick, rolling down her spine, causing her to shiver.

“Morning,” she replied, leaning her head back affectionately to tuck under his chin. She felt the curve of his jaw as his neck bent forward to plant a simple kiss on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry I got home so late. I guess time got away with me.”

Veronica was silent for a moment, percolating on her response. She didn’t want to cause another fight, but she couldn’t let the bother die down so easily.

“You don’t have to dip off every time we fight, Pea. We’re going to have fights. It’s a natural product of living with another person, especially a person you’re sharing a child with.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone edging on defensive. “I just thought it would be in both of our best interests if I stepped away for a while, got a little perspective.”

“It must be nice,” she countered, “to leave the house, leave behind everything when you need a break.”

“Veronica…”

“You left me all alone, Sweet Pea,” she cut him off. The silence began to build in the limited space between them, and she could feel his chest tense up behind her. “I was all alone in this house, without you, and I missed you. _I missed you._ ”

“I’m sorry, Veronica,” he conceded, the guilt seeping down into his toes. Her voice was like an arrow to the heart, the pain laced with the sound of her trying to fight back tears.

“You go to the Wyrm too much,” she spit out, the words tumbling from her lips even as she told herself to tread lightly. “You know you’ll need to cut down on that when the baby comes. You can’t run away to the bar every time you feel like it. I’m going to need you here to help me.”

“I know…” he replied slowly, and the hand around her belly began to move up and down in soothing strokes. A finger dipped into the little divot of her belly button, swirling a light circle around her skin before tracing a soft line from her navel to the hem of her night dress. His hand curled around the fabric, gently lifting it with the subtly of a breeze, but still Veronica rolled over, her eyes following suit in irritation.

“Pea… you can’t just touch me and expect all of our problems to go away. I need you to listen to me.”

“I _am_ listening to you, babe. I hear what you’re saying, and I apologize. I should have stayed home last night instead of going out with Fangs. Besides, he cost me a hefty penny in pool fees, so there’s more than one reason why I regret not staying in.”

His fingers continued to stroke along her inner thigh, her body now faced towards him, giving him better access to her legs. He looked at her lovingly, memorizing every little fleck of light brown speckle in the rich dark cocoa of her eyes. “I’m sorry I left you behind to deal with everything here. I promise I will do my best to pitch in, not cut out when I get mad or frustrated.”

“We have to work together, Pea.”

“I know, and I promise I’ll do my best.” He cocked his head to the side, his ear digging further into the pillow as he offered her a sly morning grin. “Will that do for you, Miss Lodge?”

She tried to fight back the smile, her stubbornness willing her to let it take over, but she conceded, smiling back at him, her cheeks warm from the sun coming in through the windows. “That will do.”

“Good,” he replied, his strokes becoming slow circles as he drew on her thigh with his fingertip. “I saw the onesie you left out for me last night.”

“Oh yeah?” she perked up. “What did you think?”

“It’s cute,” he replied, his grin growing. “Very fitting for a child of mine.”

“I thought so.”

“It was sweet of you to think of me,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on her exposed collarbone, the thin silk lining of her nightgown dipped low from her turning over in bed. “So very sweet.”

She sighed softly, closing her eyes as she reveled in the feel of his warm lips on her skin. “It’s your baby too.”

“I know,” he replied, peppering another series of kisses along the column of her neck and up her jawline. “The fact that you’re carrying my baby turns me on so damn much.”

She gasped as the finger drawing circles on her thigh stroked upward in a quick motion, poking at the naked mound of flesh beneath her dress, the tiny black curls there matted along his fingertip. He twirled the fine strands slowly, dipping the tip in ever so slightly to stroke at her moisture.

“Already so wet for me this morning, Veronica,” he mumbled as his mouth made its way toward the lobe of her ear. “I think I owe you another form of apology.”

His teeth peeked out to scrape at the skin of her ear, eliciting a quick inhale from her trembling lips, before his finger plunged deep inside her, pushing inward to feel her body tighten in surprise. She whispered his name through hushed breaths, moaning from deep within her chest as he thrust his finger in and out of her in an intoxicating rhythm, and he could feel the erection in his boxers grow thicker and taut with desire.

They spent the next thirty minutes in bed, Sweet Pea’s mouth and fingers glued to the inner parts of Veronica’s most sensitive areas, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he worked her to completion more than once, her body twisting and writhing in their cotton sheets. With her final climax, she gripped the sheets with shaky fists, struggling to hold on as her body fought to let go.

They finished off the morning with Veronica on top, her newly perky breasts bouncing up and down as she rode him in fluid waves, his fingers pressing firmly into her hips as she ground onto him. They couldn’t get close enough, their bodies practically glued together as she slammed her hands onto his chest and pressed into him, desperate to feel every thick and heavy inch of him fill her up to the brim.

When they came, they came together, two echoes of a shared scream in their relaxed bedroom space, the sunlight dripping in from the open blinds, bathing them both in its glow.

The rest of the morning and remainder of the day was spent rekindling their love, making up for the fight they had last night, teasing each other playfully as they sorted through the rest of Veronica’s boxes. They made love twice more that night, setting out candles that surrounded a tub of suds and steam, a bath for just the two of them where Sweet Pea lovingly caressed her stomach.

When Veronica gasped and reached for his hand under the water, placing it on her belly as she stammered on about a fluttering of butterflies inside her womb, Sweet Pea thought he would be a fool if he missed out on another night with her like he had the day before. Though he couldn’t feel the kick of the baby, he basked in the glow of her smile as she wallowed in the joy of those first-time jitters inside her.

All at once, he knew that moment was enough.


	5. Month Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink.
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Month Five, folks! I appreciate you sticking with me through this update and through this journey. We're just over halfway there!!! I've got a lot in store for this couple, and I can't wait for you all to watch it unfold. I want to take a minute and thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos and for taking the time out of your busy lives to read my little slice of SweetVee domesticity. You are all so wonderful and I am so grateful for every one of you!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

**Month Five**

 

Veronica sat nervously on the edge of the exam table, her bare legs crinkling against the paper lining as she readjusted them, tucking her right ankle behind the left. Her hands braced her up on the thick padding, her nails digging into the cushion as she bit her bottom lip.

It was time for her monthly check-up and Dr. O’Dell was five minutes late for their appointment, every second wearing further on Veronica’s nerves. Sweet Pea was much more relaxed beside her, sitting slouched in a separate chair, his legs crossed over each other with his hands folded in his lap. His eyes were closed, his chance at a quick cat nap from work as he had used up his lunch break to take her to the appointment.

She envied his peace, wishing she could have an ounce of the chill he had, her stomach fluttering wildly with anxiety and what she hoped was the baby. She had been having cramps intermittedly over the past 24 hours, and she felt lucky this appointment had been pre-scheduled, worried she would have had to squeeze herself into the doctor’s already packed agenda for a drop-in visit.

Sweet Pea did his best to soothe her the night before, wrapping her up in his arms and caressing her temples as he whispered in the dark of their bedroom that there wasn’t any use to worrying over a handful of cramps in the middle of the night. He assured her that Dr. O’Dell would take care of her the day after and she had fallen into fitful sleep shortly after. She woke up twice more before their alarm went off, and they both felt the lack of sleep when they crawled out of bed that morning.

They both jumped when the door to the clinic room opened, the bright and beaming face of Dr. O’Dell greeting them from around the corner.

“Hey there. How are we feeling today?”

Veronica grimaced, her polite smile turning into a frown. “Not too well, Dr. O’Dell. I’ve been having cramps since late yesterday evening after dinner and I’m not sure if what I’m feeling are fetal kicks or nerves. I’m really anxious.”

The doctor smiled and pulled a rolling stool over toward the clinic bed. “That’s totally understandable and very normal. A lot of women experience premature contractions that are completely unexplained and harmless. But let’s go ahead and have you lay back while I do an exam.”

Veronica complied, nodding as she leaned back with the help of Sweet Pea, who stood from his chair to assist her as she fell flat against the bed, her bare back under the clinic gown blanching from the cold surface of the paper lining. He moved the chair closer to the bed as the doctor set up the ultrasound machine, reaching out for Veronica’s shaking hand and grasping it gently with his own.

“It’s going to be okay, baby,” he whispered when she turned her face to look at him, her eyes riddled with fear. “I’m right here and you’re in good hands.”

For emphasis, he squeezed her hand again, rewarded with a smile and a bit of ease in the concern she showed so vividly on her face. She peeled her gown upward, exposing her bare stomach for the doctor to pour the cool gel onto.

“A little light pressure, okay?” Dr. O’Dell explained as she pressed the probe to the gel, pushing it over Veronica’s abdomen as the screen beeped and came to life. The black and white image of the fetus pulsated as the probe moved left and right, the sound of the heartbeat echoing around the small space of the room, strong and steady. Veronica felt her shoulders give with relief, the tears she hadn’t realized she had been holding soon cascading silently down her cheeks as she watched the monitor with newly excited eyes.

Sweet Pea squeezed her hand again, this time subconsciously as he found himself drawn to the sight and sound of their baby on the screen in front of him. _An image so small but a presence that seemed so large._ He felt his heart give and the tears began to well up in his eyes as well.

They both listened on as Dr. O’Dell explained the fetal changes at this stage, how the baby’s temperature was maintained and how developed its muscles were. She went on to comment on the nails that were beginning to grow on the fetus’s fingers and toes and the first stages of head hair that was already starting to grow inside the womb.

“That explains the heartburn,” Veronica chuckled.

“They say that means your baby will have a lot of hair,” the doctor confirmed, switching off the machine and handing Veronica a towel to clean off the gel. “An old wives’ tale.”

“Bets on it being black,” Sweet Pea added in, answered with a raised eyebrow on Veronica’s end.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. There was that one really hot redhead at the Wyrm that one night some months ago…”

He shook his head at her as he smirked. “You think you’ve ever been out of my sight? There’s no way in Hell I would have missed that.”

“You two really are adorable,” Dr. O’Dell commented, standing from her rolling stool before she pushed it to the side out of the way. “Veronica, the baby looks great, but I’d really like to run a couple of labs just in case, including a blood panel. I’ll send the tech to come collect the labs while I go print out the snapshot from today’s ultrasound.”

When she exited the room, the look of dread appeared on Veronica’s face again.

“What’s going on?” Sweet Pea asked, concerned with the way her face drained of nearly all color.

“I hate needles,” she replied, her eyes wide and her mouth turned downward.

He chuckled and helped her up from the bed, placing a comforting hand on her back as he rubbed up and down. He continued to soothe her when the lab technician came into the room, a bucket of specimen supplies in tow. He watched as Veronica looked away from the sight of the needle entering her arm and felt her little jump when the catheter penetrated the skin. As the blood flowed out of her into three different colored tubes, he did his best to whisper words of encouragement into her ear, pressing a series of gentle kisses on her bicep.

“You did great, kid,” he praised as she disrobed from the clinic gown and changed back into her street clothes. As she smoothed out the army green top over her belly, he caught sight of the little line of dark hair that had begun to form from her navel, smiling to himself at how adorable it made her pregnant stomach look.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she replied, slipping her flats back onto her feet. “I hope FP is okay with you skipping out on so many lunch breaks.”

“He gets it. He’s had a kid, too, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” she scoffed, “from what I hear, he didn’t do a really good job toward the beginning.”

“But he knows now and he understands. Plus, he’s eased up a bit on me taking more time off from club business. As long as I get back to work and don’t dawdle, he has nothing to complain about.”

Veronica leaned up on her tip toes and pressed a kiss to his awaiting lips. “My little hard worker. Anyway, thank you again. Do you have time left to eat?”

He shook his head. “Not much. I’ve got that lunch you packed from the other day still in my cooler. I’ll scarf the sandwich down on the way back to the site.”

She nodded in understanding and they walked out of the room together, still holding hands as they exited the office. Dr. O’Dell called to them on the way out, holding out the sonogram photo and explaining she would give Veronica a call with the lab results when they were completed.

Sweet Pea dropped her back off at the house with only minutes to spare to get back to work. As he hastily jammed the ham and swiss sandwich into his mouth, merging onto the main road before turning onto the side street leading to the construction site, he thought again about the moment that baby flashed on the ultrasound screen, the speckled black and white outline of their child on full display for his thoughtful eyes.

Missing lunch had totally been worth it.

 

*******

 

Later that afternoon when Sweet Pea walked through the garage door into the kitchen, he was treated with the sight of an unknowing Veronica shimmying her hips back and forth to the sound of a Latin pop song, its foreign lyrics enhanced by a rhythmic beat and the pronounced sway of her shoulders as she flitted from one countertop to another.

He leaned against the door frame and watched as she continued to dance, a large knife in her hand and her heels bouncing up and down, mirrored by the sweeping of her long black hair as it swayed from side to side over her swan-like neck. She began to chop up a large vine tomato on a cutting board, her lips echoing the Spanish words with a fluent tongue, and he had to admit she looked incredibly enticing, her belly pronounced and her flared hips on full display with her dance.

She wore a pair of thin black gym shorts that showed off the stems of her legs, her ankles still slim and feet limber as she flitted around the kitchen barefoot, retrieving a colander of lettuce from the sink. Her tight red tank top enhanced the swell of her breasts, which had begun to plump up over the past couple of weeks. He licked his bottom lip as he watched her sway and shimmy, still completely oblivious to his presence in the kitchen. Somehow, her ignorance and total lack of inhibition was the biggest turn on, her body moving in a natural way unencumbered and without an ounce of self-consciousness.

As the song began to wind down, he cleared his throat, instantly startling her as she dropped the knife she was using to chop a red onion onto the counter top. She swiveled around on her toes and caught him staring at her where her ass had been, her wide eyes narrowing and a smirk forming on her lips.

“Like what you see, big boy?”

He chuckled and unfolded his arms, crossing toward her, backing her up against the counter before trapping her in between his hands. He reached down and lifted her up from the back of her thighs, settling her on the counter top before bracing both hands on either side of her.

 “Oh, do I. How come you never shake your ass like that for me when we’re in bed?”

“Maybe you can’t handle this Latina spice.”

“I want to do more than handle,” he warned, leaning in closer to nibble on her jawline.

“How was work?” she asked, switching gears as his mouth continued to work its way down her neck, peppering her flesh with tiny kisses and scrapes of his teeth.

“Good,” he replied. “Jughead and I finally finished getting the sheet rock up. We’re working on paneling tomorrow.”

“Sounds like progress.”

He pressed one more kiss just above her collarbone and straightened, leaning back away from her. “Definitely. I’m totally beat and I’ve still got a club meeting tonight.”

He backed away and pivoted toward the fridge, opening the door to allow the cool air to soothe his overheated skin as he hunted for a beer. “It’s getting hot as shit out there, but we should be done with the project before snowfall.”

“Perfect timing.”

“Exactly. FP thinks I’ll actually be able to take some time off for the baby when it comes.”

Veronica slid from the counter and stepped up behind him, slipping her hands in the back pocket of his jeans before she squeezed the flesh there. He groaned softly, his ass leaning into her grip as he bent further into the fridge.

“Veronica, I’ve got about ten minutes before I need to head out.”

“I only need five,” she replied, her mouth pressing a hot kiss through the dingy cotton shirt covering his back. She could feel the muscles tighten beneath her lips.

“Not long enough for where my mind’s at, baby.”

“Please,” she whined, slipping her hands out of his back pockets and slithering them toward the front of his jeans, her thin fingers beginning to stroke the lump of flesh that was starting to harden. “I’m so horny.”

He choked on the chuckle that was forming on his lips when he felt her begin to undo the zipper of his pants. When he felt the gentle scraping of her nails brush against his cock, her hand plunging inside his jeans to find him firm and ready for her, he let out a long slow growl from his hungry mouth.

“You’re always horny,” he whispered breathily, the cool air of the fridge a sharp contrast to the heat he felt throughout his body, his blood pumping wildly and fast with the bounding beat of his pulse.

“I just can’t get enough of you. I think about you all day when I’m here alone. Please just let me have a little taste before you go again.”

He groaned again in reply, pushing back against the fridge to close the door, forcing her to release her grip around his stiff length. “We’ve got to make this fast. FP is going to kill me if I’m late again.”

She smirked against his back, their bodies pressed together. He twisted around to grab her again from under her ass cheeks, lifting her from her thighs, placing her on the counter top. Her legs dangled and squirmed as she tried to push her gym shorts and panties down her thighs, watching with intent and starving eyes as he finished unbuckling his pants and tore his dirty work shirt from his torso, throwing it on the floor somewhere to the right.

Her hands flew up to his chest, her fingers searching every inch of heated skin that burned beneath her touch. When her nail flicked against one of his nipples, his head fell back and he released a low howl, his hand reaching down for his cock as he stroked himself in front of her.

She widened her legs, finally shimmying them down toward her calves and off her ankles, pulling him closer toward her with a yank of her bare heels on the back of his thighs. He rocked closer toward her, his cock a mere inch or two from her entrance, and she leaned in to lick down the front of his bicep.

“Hurry baby,” she rushed, urging him on with another press of her thighs.

He brought the tip of his cock toward her quivering lips, already damp with desire, and slid in fast and hard, up to the hilt of her, their mouths both erupting in a loud groan of satisfaction. Without hesitation, he began to pound into her, his hands gripping the back of her ass for leverage, pushing their bodies closer and closer with every thrust.

“That feels so good, Pea,” she moaned, her eyes rolling to the back of her head before she closed her heavy lids.

“I love the way you feel around me,” he replied, his head tilting back, giving in to the euphoric way it felt to be buried deep inside her. With every thrust, he pulled about an inch out and then slammed back into her, their pace increasing with every few shoves.

Her hands slid up his taut arms to wrap around his shoulders, her forearms dangling over his back, her nails bared and scraping the hot skin there. When he hit a particularly deep and sensitive part of her, she dug in, eliciting a wince from his thick lips.

“More, more,” she pleaded, her hands slapping and scratching his hand as she hustled him faster and faster in his pumping, her legs now wrapped so tight around his hips she practically melted into him. She couldn’t get enough, her entire system on fire, her sex drive on full blast and flowing over. She knew the hormones were mostly to blame, but there was something so sexy about seeing him covered in soot and dirt, his nails grungy and his palms calloused from a hard day’s work outdoors, his jeans covered in dried concrete and old paint stains. His rugged exterior and that smirk of his that made her body tingle drove her absolutely crazy, her mind consumed with thoughts of him deep inside her, possessive and hungry and all hers.

He leaned in to find her lips, zeroing in on her like prey, and captured her mouth with his own, flesh and tongue becoming one, hot and hostile and ravenous. They consumed each other in both sex and spirit, their bodies slamming against each other as they muttered heated words of lust and carnality, fantasies and hot sex commands. He was always in the mood to make love to her, but Sweet Pea could barely keep up with this new insatiable side of Veronica, a fact that he absolutely fucking loved.

He matched her pace for pace, her tight legs and demanding heels urging him deeper and deeper inside her with every thrust, the space between their bodies nearly nonexistent but for the bulge of her stomach, a presence forgotten by the hasty need to feel each other, burn for each other, come together.

She could feel his heat begin to sear her insides, her own walls start to flutter with that maddening desire to come and explode around him. She tried to mumble that she was going to orgasm, but her words came out as stuttered screams, her eyes slamming shut when the tingle in her toes shot up her legs toward the apex between, her cunt erupting in shatters of stars and nerves. As an answer, without warning, he came inside her, shoving himself even deeper with three solid thrusts, white heat shooting through him into her, filling her totally and completely.

“Jesus,” he breathed, their chests collapsing together as they fought for air. Her hands went limp around his shoulders, the heel of her palms resting on the top of his collarbone, drenched in beads of sweat speckled with dirt.

“Thanks,” she smirked, pressing a kiss over one of his pecs. “Now don’t you have a meeting to get to?”

There was a beat of silence as Sweet Pea’s lungs settled, his breathing less labored and easy. “Fuck the meeting.”

With a suddenness that shocked her, Sweet Pea gathered her closer to him and lifted her ass off the counter, shuffling through the kitchen toward the hall. She squealed with delight and pleasure, still feeling the semi-soft flesh of his cock still inside her, and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.

“What about FP?”

“Fuck FP,” he replied, capturing her lips once more before carrying her through the threshold of their bedroom, ready for round two of carnal and fucking euphoric obliteration.

 

*******

 

Two weeks later, Veronica found herself tugging at the hem of her mauve sundress as she slid out of the open passenger door of Sweet Pea’s truck, pulled up just down the street from the Whyte Wyrm. She carefully hoisted a casserole dish containing the delicately put together concoction of vanilla pudding, bananas, and soft meringue from the foot of the truck, mindful of the thin layer of plastic wrap that clung to the rim of the glass.

Together, she walked side by side with Sweet Pea, her low heel clicking against the sidewalk, his thick soled boots pounding the pavement with every step. He wore his signature Serpents leather jacket over a red flannel button-up and dingy black jeans, one of the pants legs uncovered by a giant hole around the knee. Next to her chic attire, they made an odd match, but she couldn’t help but feel total pride walking in next to him inside the fence toward the back of the bar.

There was a raucous of laughter and sound coming from the bar, exposed by the giant garage-like door that normally cut the bar off from the back parking lot. There were kids running around with bubble wands, men standing in small circles with cups of beer in their hands, and a crew of women setting up the assortment of dishes and containers of entrees, sides, and dessert – all present for the Annual Serpent Summer BBQ Bash.

The barbeque get-together had been an event established when the club first settled in the Southside, a fundraiser designed to not only bring the members’ families together but also raise money for various parties and charities that the Serpents oversaw throughout the year. This was the first major event Veronica was attending with Sweet Pea on her arm, regretfully missing the year prior when they had first started dating due to some engagement with her parents in the city.

She felt nervous, her hands slightly trembling with both anxiety and the weight of the dessert still in her hands, as she broke away from Sweet Pea with a simple kiss as they parted ways, her feet carrying her over to the long table of food and other assorted snacks. She spotted Betty, who was busy unwrapping a large platter of pickles and olives, and sidled up next to her.

“Quite the turn out, B. How long have you been here?”

Betty twisted her head to the side to face Veronica, her long blonde ponytail swaying out of the way to the side. She wore a pale pink blouse and tight white jeans, a look only someone as wholesome and sweet as Betty Cooper could pull off. She offered her friend a smile and balled up the foil lid with her hands.

“About two hours. I had to get here early with Jug to set up the grill. He’s got Tall Boy on the dogs, but I feel like we should have sprung for brats too. I guess franks and burgers will have to do for now. I think Melinda and Mustang are bringing a pan or two of chopped brisket too from Gene’s.”

“Sounds like you’ve got the meat covered. Is there anything I can help with? I brought the banana pudding.” Veronica held up the casserole dish for Betty to see.

The blonde pivoted on her heel and pointed toward a smaller table down the way. “Desserts are going there. If you’d like to start folding napkins and setting up the plastic cutlery, the supplies are under the dessert table in a cardboard box. Just set the forks and spoons in the lined baskets inside the box and the napkins in a stack. Thanks for the help, V.”

Veronica smiled and patted her friend on the shoulder, a gentle gesture she was used to implementing to calm her friend’s frazzled state. Betty was always so keen on going so hard on party planning that she tended to overdo it.

“No problem, Betty. I’ll just be by the forks and spoons if you need anything.”

Veronica crossed over to the dessert table, waving at another woman with a cigarette dangling from her lips who was busy peeling back the plastic lid on a tub of macaroni salad. Marjorie had been one of the eldest Serpent wives in the bunch, saddled to Tall Boy for the greater part of thirty years. Though she had a rough exterior and an even gruffer voice, she had been one of the first of the wives to welcome Veronica into the world of the Serpents.

Veronica set the dish on the table next to a tray of homemade cookies and a plate of fresh fruit cut up in triangles. Her stomach began to rumble, the temptation of chopped pineapple making her mouth water, and she looked around to make sure no one was watching before she snuck a piece of the yellow fruit, sliding it quickly past her welcoming lips.

“I saw that,” Sweet Pea whispered into her ear before placing a peck on her cheek. She turned to face him and smiled.

“What are you doing over here? Why aren’t you bonding with the men?”

“I’ve been bonding with the men for the past five minutes. Now I want to bond with my woman.” He kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Plus, I just came by to tell you that I’m heading to the store with Fangs for another case of beer and some cigs.”

She pursed her lips and shook her head, turning her attention back to the box of cutlery under the table, bending carefully to retrieve it from the cement ground. “I thought we said you were going to quit smoking.”

“We did. But it’s the annual barbeque, Veronica, and there’s going to be plenty of food and beer and revelry. Let me just smoke this once? For the special occasion?” He tossed her a pitiful look, his brown eyes turned down and wide like a sad puppy.

“Fine,” she sighed, shaking her head again. “But you better not smoke a whole pack and the rest are going home with Fangs. I don’t need you stinking up that house like a walking ashtray.”

“Of course, babe.” He leaned down for another kiss, delegated to the cheek with a deliberate turn of her head away from him. “I promise I won’t be long. Do you need me to pick you up anything?”

Veronica began folding the napkins into long rectangles, placing them into a neat stack by the edge of the table. “No, I’m fine. Thank you. Be careful.”

“I will.” And then he took off, stomping off toward Fangs who stood waiting by a pair of motorcycles, one belonging to each of them. Sweet Pea had left his at the bar earlier in the week, opting to have Jughead drive him home one night after a raucous and drunken round of pool that lasted well beyond midnight.

Veronica sighed to herself as she finished dumping the forks and spoons into the lined baskets, arranging them neatly beside the napkins and paper plates that had already been set out. She looked around for the refreshments table, her eyes honing in on the giant vats of iced tea and lemonade that stood near the grill, a line of red solo cups available for use. She walked over to get a drink, her gait already turning into a waddle as her pregnancy progressed, and she was happy to find the cups pre-filled with shards of chipped ice, her mouth entirely parched from the hot sun.

She poured herself a cup of lemonade before settling down in a chair a few feet away, resting her feet as she took in the sights around her. There were two little boys playing with a handful of plastic army men nearby, their excited and determined voices in their play bringing a smile to her lips, her mind suddenly focused on the fantasy of a dark-haired little boy with a toy motorcycle and eyes as brown as his father’s…

“Earth to Veronica!”

Veronica shook her head clear of her daydream and looked up at the shadow of her best friend, the blonde holding out a plate of nibbles and a single napkin for her to take.

“I saw you take that piece of pineapple earlier and thought you might be hungry. You should be in that stage of your pregnancy where your appetite starts to increase.”

Veronica chuckled, sitting up in her chair and reaching out for the plate of cheese cubes and Triskets, a handful of green grapes placed to the side. “I’m always hungry now that I can actually keep food down. I swear, I’ve gained about thirty pounds and a baseball player in this stomach.”

“How’s the baby doing?” Betty asked, settling into the folding chair next to Veronica.

“Doing well,” Veronica grinned, exhaling a long breath before she began to delicately shovel cheese into her mouth. “Now that I can feel him or her kick, it’s nonstop. The other day, I swear to God Pea nearly shit himself when I put his hand on my stomach for him to feel the soccer game going on in my womb. This baby offers me no rest when he gets home.”

“That’s so sweet,” Betty offered, her cheeks growing flush with adoration. “Ugh, I can’t wait for Jughead to see me pregnant. He’s probably going to be more of a pile of mush than I am.”

“Have you two changed your minds and decided to start planning right away?”

Betty shook her head, reaching for a cube of cheese off Veronica’s plate. “No, not immediately. I think we’re still going to take some time and enjoy married life first.” She popped the cube into her mouth to chew.

“How is the wedding coming along? Any new arrangements?”

Betty shook her head, her eyes glued to the kids playing a few feet away, spacing out. Veronica could tell she was already exhausted from the events of the day. “No, not really. Though my mother continues to piss me off. This time, she wants me to double the budget for the flowers, but I just don’t see the reason why. Jug and I are already working with a tight leash, and flowers aren’t really that important for a wedding.”

Veronica smiled, admiring the contrast of her friend’s cotton-candy appearance and romantic nature with the practicality she exhibited with wedding planning.

“She means well,” Veronica offered, popping another green grape into her mouth.

“She does,” Betty agreed with a heavy sigh, “but for once, I’d like her to just let me and Jug call the shots. This is our wedding, after all. The start of our new life together, and all that other nonsense people say when they finally tie the knot. I think it’s only fair and it’s only fitting that he and I be the ones with all the say when it comes to our wedding decisions.”

“You know it’s just because she loves you… and she’s lonely. Having that big house all to herself can’t be an easy adjustment for her, not when she’s so used to taking care of the three of you, _plus_ Polly’s kids. I’m sure she just needs an outlet.”

“Yeah, well, I think she’s found it,” Betty replied suggestively, her eyes lowering as FP walked within her line of sight, across the wide open garage door of the Wyrm toward the refreshments stand. “I’ve seen FP’s bike parked there the last two nights in a row.”

Veronica gasped in playful scandal, leaning in for emphasis. “No! Mrs. Cooper and Mr. Jones, rekindling that old flame after all this time?”

“I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming. They’ve always had a _thing_ , even when my dad was still in the picture. The flirting, the playful touches, the strolls down memory lane… it’s like he was just waiting for dad to take a hike before he could quickly swoop in and make his move.”

“It’s been eight months, Betty. There’s nothing quick about that. He was patient, you have to give him credit for that. Plus, your mom wanted that divorce, needed to be out of that marriage. Thankfully, your parents wanted the same things and walked out of that unscathed.”

“Yeah,” Betty agreed reluctantly. “I still feel like it’s too soon. They were married for nearly thirty years, Veronica. How can you walk away from a commitment like that in the blink of an eye?”

Veronica shrugged, thinking of her own parents and how there were times when she was a teenager where they’d fight so viciously, one of them would walk out for a day or two, leaving her to wonder if marriage was really something so easy to walk out on. Someone always came back, though, and the Lodges would continue on as if nothing inappropriate or out of the ordinary had happened at all.

Nothing was ever resolved properly when it came to her parents. A lot of arguments swept under the rug, another ten thousand dollar necklace or two thousand dollar pair of cufflinks tied to the bill of their marriage, thrown at the problem with enough pizzazz to make it seem like a problem never existed in the first place.

“I don’t know, Betty. But does she at least seem happy? I mean, maybe getting her on her back might get her off yours.”

Betty grimaced in disgust. “Ugh, no thank you – I’d like to not think about my mother that way.”

“You’re such a prude, Betty Cooper,” Veronica teased. She placed a knowing hand on her belly. “I hate to break it to you, but sex exists, and the best of us are having it regularly.”

“Hmpf,” Betty scoffed. “You think you’re the only ones having rockin’ sex? I may not divulge my private affairs like you do, Miss Lodge, but I’ll have you know Jughead is the only one that truly knows how much of a prude I’m _not._ In fact, I’ll say there’s an advantage to getting here hours before everyone else to set up. We had the bar _all to ourselves_ and there wasn’t a damn person in the place. I’ll let your mind chew on that for a bit.”

“No thanks,” Veronica stuck her tongue out at her. “I’d rather chew on some more food. Be a dear and grab me some more cheese, please. And some of that pineapple. And maybe a tiny scoop of the banana pudding. I know it’s for dessert, but I’m pregnant so I think that means I get to eat whatever I want, whenever I want.”

Betty rolled her eyes in reply, but stood happily and retrieved Veronica’s plate before crossing to the snack table to pile on more goodies. When she returned, she handed her friend the paper plate before plopping back down into her folding chair.

“Don’t you have a baby daddy for these kinds of tasks?”

Veronica laughed. “Yes, but he’s currently doing not-so-daddy like things with Fangs. Buying beer and cigarettes.” Veronica shook her head in irritation.

“I thought he said he was going to quit.”

“He did, but apparently an event like this warrants some cheating.”

“You two still doing okay?”

Veronica looked up from her plate to give her friend the eye. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Betty shrugged, trying to play off the question as a casual one. “I just meant is everything still going well now that you two are officially living together and you’re deep into your second trimester? When you mentioned him and Fangs, it was like there was this underlying annoyance in your tone.”

Veronica hesitated for a moment, taking the opportunity to reflect on her response by eating a thin wedge of ripe yellow pineapple. “Everything’s fine. It just gets under my skin a little every time he leaves the house to spend time at the Wyrm.”

“I thought you guys talked about that and he said he would cut back.”

“He did – for a couple of weeks. And then there started to be these random events that would pop up, reasons to celebrate that meant he had to be with the Serpents or here with Fangs. I’m always too exhausted to join, and he always looks so happy to go, I just don’t have to heart to argue with him every time.” She looked down at her plate in reflection. “I think he’s starting to get scared about the baby.”

“You think so?”

“I think it’s a lot for him to take in, and whether he wants to admit it or not, he didn’t sign up for or expect this to happen. I mean, neither did I but I’ve always wanted a family. Sweet Pea comes from a broken home and a broken idea of what marriage and family is supposed to look like. I don’t think he knows what to do with all of this.”

“Well,” Betty reached over to lay a hand on her friend’s fingers, bent around the edge of the paper plate, “you’re incredibly tough to be dealing with all of this too, and I think it’s important for you to realize you’re not alone in this. I’m always available for you, V. Even with all of this wedding drama. You’re family to me, just like Jug, and family comes first.”

Veronica smiled warmly and genuinely at her friend. “Thank you, B. I don’t know how I would have managed to get to this point without your stellar friendship.”

The girls continued to gab, finishing off the nibbles on Veronica’s plate until Fangs and Sweet Pea returned with their provisions. Jughead was just getting ready to put the meat on the grill as the rest of the Serpents and their respective families piled into the back lot of the Whyte Wyrm to celebrate another fantastic year of club camaraderie and loyalty.

The sky soon faded from blue to orange to black as the afternoon drifted into night. The bright and beaming yellow patio lights of the back lot illuminated the blacktop as club members and their kids settled onto blankets or folded out chairs, cups of beer or tea or some sort of fruit punch clutched in their hands as their eyes fell to the skies.

FP and Fangs were busy fiddling with the fireworks display, lining up the devices in methodical order to light off in perfect precision, the capstone to a wonderful evening of fun, food, and family.

Veronica nestled in the crook of Sweet Pea’s arm as he wrapped her up in a one-sided embrace, her hands resting comfortably on his chest as she inhaled the scent of his sweat and leather, along with the smells of the night and honeysuckle blooming from a nearby bush. She took the view in around her, thanking the watchful stars above for a moment of peace in the arms of her lover, surrounded by people who had welcomed her into their clan when news about the baby had spread.

She remembered how the women had flocked to her, squawking about the joys of adding another Serpent baby to the already large brood, and the men had only deepened their outward love for Sweet Pea, as if impending fatherhood had been his induction into a different sect of the club meant only for a certain type of man who rode his Harley and ran his family with the same sort of pride.

Betty and Jughead were curled up on a blanket somewhere to the right, huddled beneath one of the few trees sequestered in a corner of the Wyrm back lot. They had snuck a few bottles of beer away for themselves and a bucket of ice, settling the longnecks in their laps as they leaned in toward each other for kisses in the hot evening heat.

Kevin was sitting by himself in a folded out chair, swirling around the ice in his red plastic cup with his finger, a watchful eye landing on Fangs from afar as he waited for the Serpent to finish the fireworks and take the vacant seat beside him.

Veronica smiled to herself, thinking how funny the universe worked, bringing all of her friends and Pea’s friends together in a unique bunch the way it had.

Somewhere to the left and toward the back of the crowd, Alice Cooper had snuck in, holding two bottles of ginger beer in her hand, one of them no doubt for the sober leader of the Southside Serpents. Veronica thought it amusing and curious how even the parents had found themselves drawn into the web of romance, Northsiders putting aside their overpriced real estate and their manicured lawns for a taste of the lower middle class where everything seemed a little less shiny, but twice more valuable in truth.

As the first firework went off, a cascade of sparks in tones of red, green, and gold, Veronica looked up at her own Southside Serpent, love in her eyes sparkling just as brilliantly as the extravaganza in the sky.

When Sweet Pea looked back down at her, the glint of the golden sparks reflecting in his rich brown eyes, she knew she had to do whatever it would take to keep him grounded when things became too heavy. She felt the sorrow for his past, the steep hope for his future, _their future_ , and promised herself that she’d fight like Hell to see it through.

As she felt the baby twitch in her tummy, another flutter and wave in tandem with the sparks in the sky, she smiled to herself, wondering if maybe the baby was kicking in agreement.

_You’ve got my back, baby. Now we’ve got to have daddy’s._


	6. Month Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink.
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to the end of the second trimester! I hope you have been enjoying this story up to this point. I've got some good stuff for you here in month six for Bughead fans and SweetVee fans alike, and I sincerely hope it brings a smile to your face.
> 
> If you have any questions or need to address any concerns, please feel free to message me at elegantmoonchild on tumblr!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

**Month Six**

 

Veronica was still chopping up the last ingredients for a summer salad when Sweet Pea walked through the front door, dropping his bag of tools on top of the washing machine in the utility room that led to the garage, a low groan erupting from his lips.

“Christ, babe, that smells amazing.”

He stepped into the kitchen, leaning down to press a simple kiss to her temple as she smiled, scooping up the sliced bits of celery with the blunt edge of her chef’s knife to toss into the giant bowl of mixed greens. He reached into the cabinet for a clean glass, running it under the tap for a quick glass of water.

“It’s just a quick pork loin. I picked up the meat on sale at the store earlier this week, jazzed it up with a little rosemary, a little oregano. Give it that ol’ _Italian flair._ ”

He grinned at her over the rim of his glass, leaning against the counter, sucking down another swig of cold water. “Well, whatever the Hell it is, it smells wonderful and I’m starving my ass off. I can’t wait to eat.”

He set the empty glass down in the sink and closed the distance between them, his hands playfully kneading the supple flesh of her ass through the pair of comfy gym shorts she wore. She whimpered lightly at his touch but tried to swat his hands away with a sharp twitch of her bottom.

“You need to shower first, Pea. You smell like a wet dog.”

“Well, it did rain today, and I do have quite the bone for you, Miss Veronica.”

She smiled. “Shoo, you. Go wash off the grime from work and dinner will be ready when you get out.”

He groaned in protest but relented. “Fine. I guess there could be worse things waiting for me when I get out of the shower.”

“Plus, if you smell better, there might be more than just dinner waiting for you when you get out.”

She shot him a wink as he hesitated in the kitchen entryway, but when it looked like he might double back for another mini grope session, she shooed him away with a stern wave of her hand. She waited to giggle until after he had turned the corner and she could hear him begin to disrobe in the hall, the telltale zip of his jeans and his simple sigh the sign she needed that he would be taking a decently long shower.

Sweet Pea had been working himself to the bone, it seemed, pulling in extra hours at both the shop and the construction site. She had to admire his stamina and his willingness to do what needed to be done to fill in the blanks where their finances were concerned. Preparing for a baby was expensive.

When dinner was finished, she settled her head back into the crook of his lap as he extended his long legs out over the edge of the couch, heels digging into the soft beige carpet of their living room. It had been their nightly ritual for the past few weeks after he came home from a long day hauling barrels of brick and bags of dried cement across whatever expansive lot he was working on. She would prepare an easy dinner for them to chew back while he showered off the soreness of the day’s labor, and once they had eaten, they would gather on the couch to fall into the comfortable bliss of domesticity.

His fingers would naturally fall to her straight black tendrils, brushing them gently from her temple, watching her eyes close under his careful and tender ministrations. Her hands would plant themselves over her belly, smoothing the skin there with a smear of cocoa butter from a tub located on the coffee table, willing away any possibility of stretch marks with firm strokes of the lotion into the pores across her stomach.

By that point in the day, Veronica would find herself utterly drained, her energy nearly depleted from being on her feet. The house was almost completely put together, a few spare boxes separating them from freedom, but Veronica was tempted to wait and finish the job after the baby was born. Moving her things in had taken more out of her than she had anticipated, but she held no regrets.

Building a home with him was the right thing to do. It _felt_ like the right thing to do. Laying with him on his couch, _their_ couch, was the closest feeling of home that she had been gifted in a very long time.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, their conversation returned to the topic that had been hottest over the past couple of days – baby names.

“What about Quincy?” Veronica had teased, knowing before he spoke that he’d reject the idea. When her eyes drifted up to meet his face, she was greeted with the crinkling of his nose and the narrowing of his dark brown eyes.

“Quincy? What kind of pussy name is that? You expect my boy to get his ass kicked?”

“But your name is Sweet Pea,” she rebutted. She knew she had a valid point.

“Yeah, but by now people know I can kick an ass. Kid has to earn his keep first.” And with that simple explanation, she considered it a fair win in his corner.

“We could go with John?” she posed, her eyebrows lifting to tease again, but the next expression she saw on his face surprised her. She knew he hated his birth name, knew he hated being referred to it by people not close to him, but there on his lips was the trace of a small grin, like he welcomed the thought.

“John’s not a terrible idea,” he pondered, his eyes looking forward into some unknown distance, his mind clearly deep in thought.

“But you hate that name,” she clarified, shuffling upward to sit up and face him, her hands bracing her lower back as they dug into the couch cushions beneath her.

“It’s not a name that suited me, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t suit my son.”

_My son._ The words made her heart beat faster, her skin erupting in a thin layer of goosebumps as her core pulsed with a sudden heat.

“I love hearing you say that.”

“What? How my name doesn’t suit me?”

“No. You saying the words ‘my son.’” She twisted her body over, her firm belly pressing gently into the cushions of the couch before she bent up on her knees, her palms holding her up for leverage as she crawled the extra inch or two closer to him. “It turns me on.”

“I can see that,” he teased just as their mouths joined, her teeth reaching out to bite softly at his lower lip. “Mmm, I thought you were tired.”

“I’m never too tired to fuck you,” she purred and he growled low in his throat, already feeling himself harden in his sweatpants.

“You’re going to pass out halfway through, Veronica, you know it.”

She leaned her body in deeper, her sensitive and aching breasts pushing into his chest as her legs straddled his thick thighs. Her hands skimmed up the barely covered surface of his abdomen, nails scrapping cotton and flesh, eliciting a shiver beneath her grip.

“Then you better make it fast, buddy.”

He growled again, louder this time, as his strong arms scooped her up from the bottom, holding her thighs up as she locked her ankles behind him, her arms around his neck. She squealed as his mouth fell to her neck, nibbling at her collarbone as he stomped out of the living room and down the hall to their bedroom.

He slammed the door hard behind them, leaving the house empty and silent but for the pleasurable moans of Veronica as she crested over and over from the clever work of his diligent hands, tongue, and cock, falling asleep only after she had come twice around him.

 

*******

 

It was just after three am when Sweet Pea awoke from his fitful sleep, his eyes sliding open to greet the dark space of their bedroom, a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire torso.

The dream had felt entirely too real, the dread of leaving the baby behind in the car during a hot summer day filtering through his senses like a toxin, but as his brain arose with his vision beneath the covers of their king-size bed, he realized the baby was still unborn and he had yet to do anything harmful to their child.

The relief was like a cool breeze on his skin, calming and necessary. He could hear the slow, gentle breathing of Veronica beside him, could see her belly rising and falling with every push of air in and out from her lungs. He rolled onto his side, careful not to arouse her from sleep, his elbow tucking into the mattress as his palm cradled the side of his head.

She looked so peaceful in slumber, her eyelids twitching slightly as he imagined her deep in some dream that was hopefully a lot better than the one he had just suffered. Her skin carried that soft appearance that she had always been blessed with, but there was that extra glow from the twilight and street lamps that seeped in through the blinds of their bedroom, giving her an ethereal aura that nearly took his breath away.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her body at complete peace, her belly round with his child, evident through the thin black cotton of her nightshirt. He couldn’t imagine a world where he had been deemed deserving enough to have her love, to lay beside her like that in the still of the night, but he was too selfish to deny himself that pleasure.

He loved her more than words could truly describe, but being _in love_ with her meant being a part of a reality much more frightening that the one he had been living in up until that point. Watching her lay still, listening to the soft _whoosh_ of her breathing, feeling her maternal energy cocooning him like silk, he could only stay silent as the new reality washed over him.

_He was in love with her._ Like he had never been with anyone ever before.

Experiencing a feeling like that was new to Sweet Pea. He was never one for settling into the scary space of emotions, at least not in his twenty-eight years of being alive and dating around. The idea of family had been one he had entertained, especially after living with the loss of his own mother and the neglect of his father, but he never thought it would occur so suddenly and with someone he felt such passion for. The concept of love, true love, _real love_ was one he had yet to grasp, and his situation forced him to open doors he never knew existed.

_How does one cleanly break through a wall without causing too much damage to the body, to the soul? To the heart? How was it possible to step through a space that led to a world he never thought would appear the way it did for him now?_

The questions he held inside him had been pushed aside, making room in his brain for all of the new information that came with a big life change, but still the fear and concern was etched in his mind. He knew he needed to figure his shit out, knew he needed to decide how to give himself a break and have faith in what could be, what will be, after the baby came, but for now all he could do was sit back and soak it all in as he watched her sleep.

He had no idea where their relationship was going to go or where parenthood would take them, but in that simple moment, laying side by side with their unborn child simmering inside her womb, such a tiny being with such a large presence in their world, he knew nothing mattered more than that twilight hour where he fell in love with Veronica Lodge.

 

*******

 

A week later, Veronica found herself straightening Sweet Pea’s tie as they both stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

“It’s a good thing you look so sharp in light blue, Pea, because you can’t tie a tie to save your life.” She chuckled as she rearranged the strip of fabric and smoothed it out over his button down.

“Well, then, it’s lucky I have you here to help me.” He leaned in for a soft peck and she accepted it, shaking her head as their lips parted.

“You’ve got that right, buddy.” She patted him on the chest, a sign of a finished task. “Looks like you’re good to go. We need to get out of here, too, before we’re late. I’ve got to be there to help Polly with Betty’s hair, otherwise I’m sure it will be a complete mess.”

Sweet Pea made a fake gasping noise. “Oh, the horror! We can’t have that. How would we ever convince Jughead to marry his high school sweetheart with bad hair?”

Veronica pinched him around the waist teasingly, grinning to herself as he bent forward with a laugh in reflex. “That’s enough out of you. Let’s get out of here.”

Veronica reached for her clutch on top of the bed before the duo swept out of the house and into Sweet Pea’s truck, barreling down Main Street until they arrived at the ceremony. They parted with another quick kiss, Veronica waddling up the church steps and down the hall toward the bridal suite as Sweet Pea watched from the door of his truck, hands in his pockets as the smile on his face glowed beneath the early afternoon sun.

The wedding went off without a hitch, Betty and Jughead exchanging vows before their family and God in the local Presbyterian Church just before sunset. Veronica had managed to keep it together until the moment the couple exchanged rings, her eyes watering over and spilling with happy tears as she watched her best friend slip a band of gold around her new husband’s finger.

Across the altar, Sweet Pea couldn’t keep his eyes off Veronica, his attention hardly registering that a wedding was going on. As he stood beside Jughead, the only thing he could think about was how beautiful Veronica had looked, how much she glowed beneath the warm lighting of the church sanctuary, dressed in a pale pink and swollen with his child.

He tried not to snicker when she exchanged her weight from one foot to the other, remembering how much of a stink he had caused when he told her wearing heels in her condition would be to her own detriment. But she hadn’t listened, choosing fashion over comfort, and if she had gone with any other decision she wouldn’t have been his Veronica.

Veronica and Sweet Pea walked back down the aisle together, following the newly anointed husband and wife, and he felt so proud to be attached to such a beautiful woman. As they passed the pews, he made a mental note of all the people who stared at his girlfriend, basking in the envy some of the men felt at his privilege of holding her arm. He pulled her in tight to his side, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, as they walked out of the church.

The reception followed shortly after an exhausting round of pictures, made even more stressful by the temper tantrums thrown by both the flower girl and ring bearer, Polly’s kids Juniper and Dagwood. Once the kids had settled down, the photographer made quick work of the photos, and Sweet Pea couldn’t help but vocalize how much he needed a drink after the whole ordeal.

Veronica joined him in the reception hall after freshening up, using the bathroom for what felt like the thirtieth time that day, her bladder being pressed upon by the overexcited baby inside her. For nearly the entire ceremony, her belly had fluttered with little kicks, enough to have her placing a hand on her stomach with a sharp yet subtle whisper for the baby to calm down.

Betty and Jughead walked into the hall, hand in hand, as the DJ announced ‘Mr. & Mrs. Jones’ over the speakers, eliciting an eruption of excited cheers from the crowd as the couple smiled and kissed openly in the large room. Dinner was served shortly after, a buffet of snack foods and mini entrees, and Veronica made sure to load up on the veggies to excuse the five meatballs and two chopped beef sliders she had also piled onto her plate.

After the nibbles came the dancing, which was usually Veronica’s favorite part of a wedding reception next to the champagne, but instead her body felt worn out and fatigued. She had been go, go, go all weekend trying to set up for the big day, and her ankles screamed in protest at the thought of moving all around the dance floor.

She decided to not be a complete spoil sport, accepting a few dances with Kevin, Fangs, and a handful of slow numbers with Sweet Pea. She even danced with Jughead for a solid thirty seconds during the “dollar dance,” where guests of the bride and groom could pay a dollar to sway back and forth with a member of the newly minted couple.

She could tell Jughead was taking pity on her when he told her she didn’t have to use the full minute for the dance, and she placed a friendly chaste kiss on his cheek in return.

“Thank you,” she smiled, internally screaming as she tried not to walk too fast toward her awaiting table. She plopped down in her chair, folding her dress beneath her before collapsing into the comfortable cushion that padded her seat.

Veronica slipped her heels off of her tired feet, placing them on the linoleum floor before she began to massage her swollen ankles. The skin felt taut and full and sensitive, and all she could think of was sliding into a tub filled with warm water and soap suds, a plate of wedding cake with a fork ready for her to devour beneath the bubbles.

She looked up from the sorry sight of her swollen ankles to watch as Betty and her sister shimmied to “Kiss On My List” by Hall and Oates, the pair of blondes covered in smiles and flushed cheeks from all of their dancing. It had been so long since Veronica had seen Polly look so jovial, her recent divorce from Jason Blossom draining her last bit of fight left, leaving her hollow and responsible for two twin toddlers. As the beat of the song increased, the pace busting out into a chorus of wild, hip-shaking rhythms, the eldest Cooper daughter jumped up and down, her blonde curls bouncing around her grinning face.

Betty beside her was just as overjoyed, the eruption of marital bliss cocooning her in a bright glow that drowned out everything else in the room. Veronica smiled to herself, so thrilled her best friend had been so blessed to find the love of her life at such a young age, and now they were committed for life. When it came to Betty and Jughead, Veronica knew their vows were like concrete, permanent and unshakeable.

A few feet away, Juniper and Dagwood jumped up and down to the beat, throwing their little fists into the air. Veronica thought Dagwood looked so handsome in his light blue button-down, covered with a pair of black slacks and suspenders that mirrored Jughead’s own wedding attire. Juniper shined in her own light, the little girl bounding around in a cream-colored gown with ruffles at the bottom, her strawberry blonde hair swooping from side to side as she swayed.

Veronica subconsciously placed a hand on her stomach, imagining what it might be like to see her own daughter or son dancing so joyously. Though the sex of their child was still unknown, Veronica couldn’t help but let her fantasies run wild, the thought of a little boy that looked like Sweet Pea tugging at her dress the way Dagwood tugged on Polly’s making her mind melt with emotion.

Sweet Pea and Jughead stood a few feet away, clutching onto scotch glasses with their other hands in their pants pockets, gesturing toward the dance floor as they discussed some topic that caused Sweet Pea to bust out into laughter, another sight that caused Veronica’s mind to run wild with glee.

He looked so handsome and so tall, his dark hair a bit sweaty from his earlier dancing and swooping down low over his brow. His skin had always been so tan, it stood out from the pastel color of his dress shirt, tucked into the waistline of his slacks that covered a pair of long, lean legs that made Veronica’s mouth water. His brown eyes closed as his laugh deepened, his head tossed back in an action she recognized was enhanced by the booze in his glass, but he looked so happy and she couldn’t help but feel just as content.

Juniper spun around to face Jughead and she ran up to him, her arms spread wide as she waited for him to swoop her up. The groom whooped in glee as he grabbed the little girl and hoisted her up, listening to her as she made some request, unheard from over the loud dancing music from the DJ booth. Veronica watched as Jughead shook his head and set the little girl down, her face drooping in disappointment, but Sweet Pea remedied the moment, extending a large hand to the small girl at his feet. Juniper erupted in giggles and took his hand, pulling him further onto the dance floor, as Sweet Pea looked back at Jughead with a look of surrender on his face.

Sweet Pea allowed Juniper to yank him further onto the faux wood linoleum, tugging at his hand before he twirled her into position. They started to dance, her little mouth stained with a bit of punch and grinning wide, laughing as Sweet Pea exchanged his usual fancy footwork for sillier dance moves, wriggling his arms around wildly as he spun around in circles.

He took Juniper’s hand again and helped her jump up and down, his big feet even following suit as they swooped up and stomped back down on the floor over and over. His mouth was wide, his white teeth on display as he smiled at the little girl directing him in her made up choreography, listening to her every demand and following it accordingly.

Veronica’s hand on her belly froze, her attention completely focused on the sight of Sweet Pea enthralled in his goofy dance with the little girl. Though he was obviously not Juniper’s father, the clear vision of him playfully interacting with her on full display made Veronica’s heart ache and her belly twitch and flutter. She could feel the baby kick in time with the beat of her heart, her mind running wild with the one single thought that flooded every other sense in her body.

_She was completely and totally in love with him._

Veronica and Sweet Pea had exchanged “I love you’s” months before, and it was no secret the deep and sincere way they felt for each other. However, Veronica hadn’t realized just how much she was in love with him, how every bit of her body could ache and hurt so blissfully for someone who stood a mere few feet away. He looked so beautiful, so strong and happy, and she couldn’t help but fall into the emotion. She knew she’d do anything for him, just like he’d do anything for her, that the man standing on that dance floor, doing goofy twirls with a little girl with stained lips and sticky fingers, was the love of her life.

Suddenly, her feet didn’t feel so swollen, her body didn’t feel so heavy, a sense of weightlessness overtaking her body and spirit. She felt like she was floating, overcome with the mist of love that lifted her from her chair as she slipped her heels back on and crept on tender feet over toward the dance floor, her eyes frozen on him as he remained oblivious to anybody other than the giggling Juniper dancing with him.

The tune changed into a slower tempo, the DJ switching the track to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” as he called out for the couples to get out on the dance floor and ‘make a little magic under the stars.’ The lights of the dance floor dimmed, small dots of white glittering on the ceiling and linoleum around them as the adults made their way to the dance floor in pairs.

Betty and Jughead gathered in the center, flanked by FP and Alice who looked just as in love, and Veronica watched as Sweet Pea mumbled a thank you to Juniper for the dance, her little body taking off across the dance floor to follow her mother as they took their seats for a break. Sweet Pea stood tall, straightening his dress shirt, as his eyes met Veronica’s, brown on brown and melting.

She could feel her heart in her throat, thumping along the inner column of her neck, and her mouth grew dry. His handsomeness was magnified being this close to him, his arms instinctually coming up to wrap around her waist as hers clung to his neck, a natural move with easy grace as they began to sway to the words of the song.

They moved in a slow circle, not bothering to twirl and overtake the dance floor, her feet way too sore for any theatrics and her mind too close to jelly for anything grand. It felt perfect, just standing there supported by his strong arms, her head tucked softly against his firm chest. She could smell his cologne, the fine burn of the scotch on his breath, a musky mix that put her hormones on edge. Her hands clasped tighter around his neck, raising her head to pull him in for a kiss as the chorus began.

Their lips met with their own slow dance, a gentle caress of warm skin on skin, a press of emotion transferring between them as the music continued to carry them across the dance floor. When they parted, his eyes searched her face, his lips quirking up in that easy smile she adored, and she wanted to tell him right then and there just how she felt.

“You know, you looked really cute out there with Juniper earlier,” she mewed, her fingers finding a thick strand of his dark hair, twirling it around her knuckle gently.

“Kids love me, what can I say?”

“Maybe it’s because you share the same level of dancing skills,” she teased.

“Could still sweep you off your feet, Ms. Lodge.”

“Is that so? I guess we’ll have to find out later. A few more songs and I won’t be able to walk out of here in these shoes.”

Sweet Pea chuckled. “I told you they were a bad idea.”

“Yes, but how could I wear a fancy dress and _not_ wear heels? You know what I’m like.”

“I know what you’re like,” he smiled. “And I’ll gladly carry you out of here, baby. No complaint.”

Her smile deepened, her eyes roaming from his eyes to his lips and back, a hunger stirring in her belly from his chivalry. “You know I care about you, Pea.”

“That, I know too. And I care about you, more than you can imagine.”

Veronica licked her bottom lip, her eyes nervously seeking the ground as they swayed. “I think I’m in love with you, Sweet Pea. _Really_ in love with you. I think I’m in trouble.”

He chuckled lightly and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“That would be some real trouble.” He leaned in closer to her ear, whispering huskily through her hair, “But maybe we could be in trouble together. I’m in love with you too, Veronica. Really, _really_ in love with you.”

Her head rose, her eyes finding his as her belly twitched with another kick, her heart beating wildly in cadence. As the music turned instrumental, they leaned in together, lips meeting perfectly in the middle. The flutter in her stomach increased, pulling her free from his mouth to laugh down at her belly, her chin tucked inward.

“The baby is kicking like crazy right now.”

“Really?” He asked, releasing his hold from around her waist to place a hand on her stomach, his face erupting in a wide grin as the baby kicked his hand appreciatively, almost in total knowing. Veronica smiled to herself, thinking the baby recognized Sweet Pea somehow through the thick lining of her body and bridesmaid gown.

“Maybe it’s all this food,” she lied, choosing to keep her secret thought to herself for now. “I did have two pieces of cake, after all.”

“Three,” Sweet Pea corrected, smirking at her. “Don’t think I wasn’t watching.”

She pursed her lips and grinned. “Fine. Three. And we’re taking a few extra pieces home, FYI.”

“Anything to make you and the baby happy,” he replied, and they finished out the song together, swaying as the lyrics seeped into her heart, hitting a little too close to the emotions she felt in that moment.

Though her feet were aching and her belly was practically coming to life with all the squirming inside her, her body wracked with sleeplessness and fatigue, she wished this moment could freeze forever –her wildly pregnant body held by the tender and strong arms of the man she was tumbling head first for, their child alive and well growing more and more within her.

When the song faded to a close, Sweet Pea leaned in to place one more kiss along her temple, whispering softly in her ear, “Want to get out of here?”

She grinned as she looked behind his craning neck, her eyes falling upon the bride and groom who looked just as ready to leave the reception as they were.

“Absolutely,” she replied. They pulled apart, hands still intertwined, and gathered their belongings from their table. With one plate filled with various snacks and another topped to the brim with extra slices of wedding cake, both covered in a thin layer of plastic wrap, Sweet Pea and Veronica walked out of the reception hall, waving their goodbyes to other guests. Fangs clapped Sweet Pea on the back as they passed, turning his attention quickly back to his whiskey and the enamored face of Kevin, who he had been in a flirtatious conversation with moments before.

Sweet Pea handed the plates of food to Veronica before he jogged down the parking lot to find his truck. She only had to wait a few minutes before he was pulling up, the truck coming to a stop with a harsh pull of the brake right in front of the church lobby. Veronica waddled to the passenger side door, Sweet Pea beating her to it to open the door for her, and she climbed inside, only needing a slight boost from his outstretched hand.

They peeled out of the lot, a random pop song airing over the radio waves, and they took the short drive to their house, Veronica leaning into the seat with her eyes closed as she reveled in the peace and quiet of the truck. Being at the wedding had taken more out of her than she thought.

“You okay, baby?” She felt the gentle squeeze of his hand on her thigh, exposed from her bridesmaid dress riding up. She looked up and opened her eyes to find him watching her in between glances on the road, concern etched in his brow.

“I’m fine, Pea,” she assured, offering him a small smile as confirmation. “I’m just exhausted. It’s been a long weekend.”

He pulled up to the front of their house just as she finished, putting the truck into park along the side of the curb. “How does a very long, very well-deserved foot rub sound?”

Veronica shivered at the feel of his hand continuing to caress her thigh, undoubtedly trying to soothe and not arouse, but she couldn’t help the surge of desire and sudden energy that flooded her body. His chivalrous words and the calloused roughness of his palms sent her arousal into overdrive, the ache between her legs growing wet with need.

“I’ve got another thing in mind,” she purred, turning her body toward him as his hand fell from her thigh to the console between them. He didn’t have long to react before she was climbing across the seat, knocking the plates of food to the floor in her haste, encasing his thighs with her own as she straddled him.

His hands came up to rest on the bottom of her ass, gripping the muscle there in a motion that had her moaning in pleasure, her body so tired yet pent up at the same time. He lifted up the hem of her dress as her lips crashed onto his, tongues instantly mingling and exchanging hot spit and thick groans between them. Her hips began to roll, her fingers flying to his scalp to dig in and tug at the sweaty black mess of tangled knots he had acquired from all the dancing, gingerly breaking them apart as she ground her groin into his.

She could feel his cock already begin to harden beneath her, extremely evident in the thin fabric of his slacks, the cool metal buckle of his belt brushing against her damp panties.

“Veronica,” he mumbled as she nibbled on his bottom lip. “I thought you were tired.”

“Shut up and just fuck me, Pea,” she moaned, nipping his lip with her two front teeth. She was rewarded with a fierce growl from deep within his chest and the rough plunging of his fingers past the band of her panties into her wet heat, two digits pumping into her with a fast and hard motion.

“Jesus,” he whined, his mouth reaching for her neck where he delivered a series of harsh kisses and sucks. She released his hair, her hands dropping toward the fly of his pants which she yanked down, reaching in with an eager hand for the thick length of his rock hard cock.

“I need you, baby,” she groaned. “I need you right now.”

He pushed her panties back in compliance, replacing her hand with his own on his shaft as he led it toward her hot and ready entrance, her lips moist and lathered in arousal. He shoved himself inside her with grace, more than the moment called for as she cursed and grounded her hips harder into his, and they both cried out with pleasure.

The windows around them began to fog as Veronica slammed the palm of her hand onto the ceiling of the truck, using the hard surface as leverage as she rode him faster and faster with every stroke, chasing after her own high as she desperately sought after a spot along his length that coincided with her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub of flesh against him quickly.

“Ugh, you feel so fucking _good_ ,” she moaned, tilting her head back as she increased her motions.

“Pregnancy has made your mouth so fucking filthy,” he replied, watching her in awe as she bounced up and down on him. “And you’re so damn tight, Veronica. So. Fucking. Tight.”

His hips rocked up into hers, causing her to cry out his name in shock and desire. Already, she could feel the squeezing of her walls, the quivering that came just before she did, her toes tucked under her thighs beginning to tingle.

“I’m gonna come,” she whimpered, her breaths coming out in quick spurts as she bounced on top of him faster and faster.

“Me too, baby. Fuck,” he cursed, his eyes closing as he felt her begin to fall apart around him, her folds clenching over his cock and squeezing him tight. Her head flew back, exposing her neck for him to kiss and bite and whimper her name into, his cock exploding inside her at the same moment she came crashing down around him.

She took a deep breath as her spine shivered, her forehead leaning down into his chest as she felt the rise and fall of his own chest as he worked to settle down. The moment had been so rushed and so passionate, they had both been swept away with desire, barely registering that they were fucking in the very public front seat of his pick-up truck in their normally quiet neighborhood. Veronica was sure the sounds of their sex could be heard for miles with how hard and how fast they had been going at it.

“We should do that more often,” Sweet Pea commented, and he felt the warm breath of Veronica’s chuckle against his chest. His hand came up to brush a few stray pieces of hair from her face as she sat back and looked up at him.

“That was fantastic, even if the whole neighborhood heard.”

Sweet Pea opened his mouth in mock embarrassment. “Oh no! What will Mrs. Wyndham say next time I mow her lawn?”

Veronica bit her lip and grinned, leaning in for a kiss. “Who the fuck cares?”

They broke apart before they started again, her body still shimmering with the afterglow of her orgasm as she dismounted from his lap, straightening her dress as he climbed out of the cab of the truck. He came around to her door and opened it for her, giving her a moment to retrieve the toppled food plates from the foot of the truck, and slammed the door behind her after she crawled out.

They walked quietly toward the front door, Sweet Pea closing the distance between them as his hands came up to cup her ass from behind, the two of them giggling like horny teenagers, and he couldn’t help but think that is how it felt when it was just the two of them. He reached around her with the keys to plug into the lock, turning it to the side and pushing the door back for them to enter.

He patiently waited as she waddled into the kitchen, watching her as she placed the plates of snacks and cake into the fridge, but didn’t hesitate long after that, crossing to her in a handful of strides before scooping her up into his arms.

She squealed with surprise, playfully slapping at his biceps, cursing him in between laughs as her dark hair tumbled toward the floor behind her head. “Put me down! I’m too heavy for you.”

“It’s not nice to lie, Veronica. Only bad girls lie. And you know how I feel about bad girls…”

She giggled as he rushed down the hall, kicking down their bedroom door in haste before slamming it shut behind him, the sounds of her laughter quickly replaced with the sounds of her moans as they made love once more before exhaustion swept over them like a fog.

 

 


	7. Month Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink. 
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My SINCEREST apologies for taking so long to update this story. I appreciate all of you who have stuck through this journey with me. I have been dealing with a lot of personal scheduling issues and my own lack of will to write, but I am back with this update that I hope you all will enjoy!
> 
> A giant thank you to all of my friends on tumblr who have sent me encouraging messages about this story, and who have been completely understanding about my situation. This update is dedicated to you all!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

** Month Seven **

 

 

Sweet Pea continued to fiddle with the brim of his work hat as he reclined in the cushioned chair of the doctor’s office, sitting next to a fidgeting Veronica who looked as if she were trying to seem less tired than she was. He knew she had been tossing and turning more frequently over the past few days, blaming her discomfort on her growing stomach. She claimed the baby kicked too much, her bladder was always being pressed on, any excuse to deter from the more obvious reason – she was terrified.

The baby had two months left to cook inside her, but every day felt as if it were speeding along faster and faster. Veronica tried to put on a brave face, tried to act as if she had everything under control, but Sweet Pea knew her better than that and could see through the guise she fought to conceal her anxiety under.

He couldn’t blame her, though, and that’s what kept him from confronting her about it. As the days grew shorter and the weeks before the baby came thinned out, he felt like a man on death row, counting down the days until his demise. It hadn’t all been gloom, the prospect of having a child, but as he and Veronica continued to plan for the baby, and it had been the main focus in their relationship and their relationships with their friends, the thought of fatherhood felt more and more daunting by the day.

But just like Veronica, he did his best to push the mask on tighter and hold on for dear life, and hope that he could feign control for just one more day, enough to make her feel more confident at their impending future together with the baby.

“God, where is she?” Veronica grumbled next to him, laying her hands over her forehead as she closed her eyes to rest. “Our appointment was supposed to begin twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m sure she’s just busy with other patients,” Sweet Pea tried to explain, doing his best to keep her as calm as possible. The last thing he needed was for her piss-poor attitude and his inability to properly react to cause an argument in his truck on the way back home. He still had to drop her off before he returned to the construction site. He had to make up for the missing hours from their appointment, and for the extra day he had to take off when she was feeling sick earlier in the week.

“Yeah, well, maybe she should schedule more time in between her appointments then, give her some cushion if she wants to chit-chat all day.”

She sighed, masking the frustrated exhale from his own lips as he fought to hold his tongue. He knew at this point, there wouldn’t be anything else he could say to ease her nerves.

Five minutes later, Dr. O’Dell glided into the consultation room with a wide, welcoming smile, and Sweet Pea nearly rolled his eyes when he saw Veronica plaster a fake grin over her face in reply.

They spent the next ten minutes discussing Veronica’s progress through her pregnancy, including weight gain and the few questions she still had about nutrition. Dr. O’Dell had suggested a few courses they could take in preparation for the baby, all hosted at a local community center on the Southside, each one focusing on a different aspect of the birthing process. He listened on as the two women discussed breathing patterns and nipple creams, breast milk versus formula, and he had to fight to keep his eyes open as the fatigue of the day settled in the longer he sat.

When the conversation finally turned to the birth plan for the big day, Sweet Pea perked up, his mind sensing the discomfort and tension coming off Veronica in waves.

“I want a natural birth, no question about it,” she told the doctor, who nodded as she listened.

“Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to entertain the idea of an epidural? I know there are fears with possible misplacement of the catheter, but those are extremely uncommon events.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’ve been watching some stories on YouTube and have read a few articles about ‘high spinal’ incidents where the mother goes into cardiac arrest. I know the pain of the labor will be tough, and I’ve gone back and forth on this with myself for weeks now, but the more I think about braving it like my ancestors and going the all-natural route, I really like that choice.”

“Have you thought about hiring a doula for the birth? Studies have shown they are quite effective in relieving labor stress and contraction discomfort.”

“My _tia_ was a doula, and while I respect her profession, I really don’t like the idea of having any more people in the room than necessary.” She looked over at Sweet Pea, and he was grateful he looked at least somewhat awake in that moment, enough to greet her smile with his own. “All I’ll need is Pea next to me, holding my hand. That should be enough. Any more and it would be too much.”

“What about Betty?” Sweet Pea chimed in.

Veronica shrugged. “I mean, I’d love for her to be there, but I’m sure she’d rather camp out in the waiting room with Jughead. Besides, someone needs to stay calm and keep my mother from having a breakdown.”

“And your father from breaking my neck,” he huffed playfully under his breath.

“That, too,” she smirked. She turned to face Dr. O’Dell, addressing her with a slow, calming exhale. “It’s pretty obvious this wasn’t just a surprise to Pea and I. My parents weren’t completely on board with this when we first told them, but it’s happening regardless so Betty, my best friend, will just have to do her best to keep the peace until the baby comes.”

“If I said this was an uncommon problem in my line of work, I’d be lying to you,” the doctor replied, easing the conversation content with an easy, light smile. “We see all kinds of dilemmas and drama in the delivery room. Our first priority, though, is to make sure mommy and baby are both safe. The rest will just have to settle on its own behind the scenes.”

Dr. O’Dell turned to address Sweet Pea. “That’s where you come in. These next couple of months are crucial to the final development of baby and the health of the mother. Dad doesn’t just get a free pass. It’s up to you to make sure all of these other kinks sort themselves out so Veronica has nothing more to worry about than a healthy delivery.”

Sweet Pea’s eyebrows shot up, not completely enjoying the tone of the doctor’s patronizing advice. “I’m fully aware of how important it is to keep the entire scene as calm as possible. You just make sure my girl is safe.” He reached down for Veronica’s hand, offering up a simple smile as a sign of support. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I know you will, Pea,” Veronica nodded, giving him a smile back in return. She mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to him as the doctor rolled away in her chair from the exam table, her back turned from the expectant parents as she gathered her clipboard with Veronica’s medical paperwork attached.

A few minutes later, the couple were piling into Sweet Pea’s truck, the sweltering heat of the final summer months filling the inside with a haze of discomfort.

“Turn the A/C on,” Veronica grumbled, heaving her tired feet into the truck after planting her bottom into the seat. “It’s already uncomfortable enough being this pregnant.”

“Got it, princess,” he teased with a grin, working to crank up the truck with cool air, fighting to keep the temperature between them less heated than the summer sun.

“You know I hate when you call me that,” she replied, easing back into the seat as she fought to cross the seatbelt over her stomach. Finally, she cursed and toss the strap back into its holster, flinging her hands into her lap. “Ugh, I give up. I’m getting too big even for this piece of junk. I don’t know how I’ve gained this much weight this soon into my pregnancy.”

“You’re seven months in, Veronica, and the doctor said you’re still within a healthy range.” He reached over to lend her a hand, both of them releasing a relieved sigh when he finally clipped the metal piece into the lock.

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t have to lug around all this weight in this sweltering heat, does she? I swear, I’m sweating in places I never knew I could sweat.”

Sweet Pea listed off a few clever retorts in his head, comparing the discomfort she felt for these next few months with the fatigue and rising temperatures he experienced daily on the construction site, but he held his tongue, recognizing her mood was already turning for the worst.

Veronica had grown more and more self-conscious about her body as the weeks progressed, complaining on multiple occasions about the size of her stomach, how awkward she felt in the skin she used to be so proud of, how disgusted she felt when she stood naked in front of him. He did his best to soothe her concerns, to remind her of how sexy he thought she was no matter the size she was becoming, but it felt as if his words constantly fell on deaf ears. Veronica was having none of it. All she wanted to do was wallow in her own self-pity, and after a while he just let her.

_Pregnant women were supposed to be all glow-y and happy and excited_ , Sweet Pea thought every time she picked a fight with him or with herself. Even when they were making love or in the throes of some wild crazy hormone-driven sex, with Veronica hornier than ever, he couldn’t stop her from picking apart the way she looked in front of him or the way she felt bouncing up and down on top of him.

They tried all kinds of different positions, with the lights on and the lights off, but nothing could ease her worries and it was beginning to wear on him. Sweet Pea wanted to be the supportive, encouraging partner that he knew she craved, but inevitably his doubts would creep in the more and more she tore herself down in front of him and the less and less his words would do anything to calm her fears.

As he pulled into the driveway, sitting with the truck in idle as Veronica slid her body out from the passenger seat, he couldn’t help himself from thinking back to the days when life was much simpler, when it was just the two of them and a handful of amazing nights, dates and dinners and motorcycle rides, hours upon hours available to spend at the Wyrm where the mood was lighthearted and fun. No grumbling over baby fat or breastfeeding or a future with chaffed nipples, early mornings, and a sad farewell to freedom.

He yearned to let go of the struggles they were dealing with now, and the ones they would inevitably face, and trade them in for just one more night of no curfews and no inhibitions, no rules or responsibilities. The appeal of fatherhood he felt every time he looked at his beautiful girlfriend, swollen with his child, was beginning to fade as the big day loomed nearer, and he felt he had no one to talk to about the way he felt other than Fangs, and still he had vowed months ago to do better about spending time away from home.

Still, as he drove away from the house and toward work, he could almost taste the beer and cigarettes, smell the musty scent of the Whyte Wyrm, feel the firm wood of the pool stick in his hand and the smile on his face as he imagined himself with no strings attached, playing a round with his best friend until closing time.

The memory was cruel, though, as he realized it would only be a memory, and even if he and Veronica had the chance to spend the night time being young and reckless, there would always be the nagging thought of not being too reckless as a child would be waiting for them back at home.

From here on out, it would always be the three of them. There was no turning back.

 

*******

 

It was the last week of her seventh month when Veronica found herself deep within the nesting phase of her pregnancy, sorting through the pile of store bought goods she had picked up for the baby over the last couple of months. The record player was cranked up, the vinyl spinning as she felt her mind ease into the comfort of the afternoon there in the nursery.

As the crooning voice of Van Morrison began to waft from the speakers of the record player, Veronica felt her hips sway gently in time, moving to and fro as she broke into a package of light brown linens. The pastel tone of the fabric was nearly as comforting as the song, and Veronica closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, relishing in the thought of her baby nestled in the soft blankets while the sounds of the tender love wrapped them both up, picturing the baby bundled in her protective arms as she swayed.

In such a short period of time, the extra room that had once been Sweet Pea’s game room with sharp colors and shades had been transformed into a nursery with muted tones and gentle designs of little bears and other woodland creatures. It had taken Veronica a moment to warm to the theme, but it was the one motif she couldn’t shake, and she ended up walking out of the baby boutique with more baby deer and bird decorations than she would have ever imagined.

It was amazing to think about how far this little house had come since her arrival, suitcases and several cardboard boxes in tow with all of the possessions she thought necessary to build a new life with Sweet Pea.

Because that’s exactly what they were doing, building a life together. Growing a life together.

Her eyes still closed in that solid moment, she felt the smile inch up her face, cheeks puffed up with a joy she could not describe. Things were finally falling into place in her life. Her mother had warmed to the prospect of becoming a grandparent, and Veronica knew one look at the baby would be enough to push Hiram Lodge over the edge too. Her best friend was happily married, overjoyed and glowing, bountiful with enough love to spread.

And Sweet Pea was embracing impending fatherhood in a way she never expected. She remembered the way he looked dancing with Juniper at Betty and Jughead’s wedding, her tiny hands planted in his massive palms, his touch gentle even from across the room as he twirled and pulled her inward for a slow spin. His face had erupted in a series of smiles, some she didn’t even think he was aware of, his footwork more than fancy but not rushed as he made room for the little girl to lead him across the dance floor.

The sight had flooded her heart with more love than she thought herself capable. Though she knew months ago that Sweet Pea was the man who made her heart beat faster than normal, though she knew and felt comfortable saying she loved him, it was in that simple moment watching him sway back and forth with Juniper that she realized she was madly, passionately, overzealously in love with him.

_He was the love of her life_ , the very thought that had taken her breath away as she sat with one palm on her swollen belly, her eyes glued to the glowing presence of her child’s father behaving so carefree and so ecstatic with his tiny dance partner. And then she dreamt about what he would look like dancing with their own child, the one she grew and watered with the endless supply of love she felt for its daddy, the man who could make her ache and desire and love with one simple smile.

She could picture him now, dancing with them both as her hips continued to sway to the serenading lullaby of Van Morrison, but the reverie soon turned into reality as she felt the calloused palms of her lover land gently on her hips, his own pressed against her back in a tender caress as he joined her in her dance.

When he had watched her from the doorway, her eyes closed and her hands subconsciously drifting down to touch her belly, mindlessly dropping the package of linens onto the floor as she lost herself in the music surrounding the nursery, he felt his heart melt into the carpet.

She had looked so beautiful, a gentle angel that glowed with the soft warmth of the setting sun bleeding through the open blinds, her swollen body moving in tune with the music, her strong yet supple hands stroking the outside skin above her womb. There wasn’t a moment in their whirlwind relationship where he had doubted the way he felt about Veronica, but watching her dance with her protruding belly caught in her soft hands, her mouth stuck in a smile so sweet it made his mouth ache, he thought he could never love her more than he did in that moment.

And even then he knew that was a lie. Each day with her taught him his capacity to love was growing inch by inch, measure by measure. At this point, he saw no end in sight to the well and depth of his feelings for her, a thought that was both comforting and scary as shit.

Drawn to her, a moth to her heavenly flame, he found himself crossing the carpet to embrace her from behind, his hands on her hips drawing forward to cover her own on her belly.

They stayed that way until the song has drifted out, heralding the tune of another old time lullaby, Veronica’s head drifting back to tuck into the cleft between his neck and shoulder. He leaned in to smell her hair, a scent he found more intoxicating with every whiff, the potent blend of jasmine blossoms and something a bit spicier and more aromatic flooding his senses until his mind was nothing but a fog of Veronica Lodge.

God, he loved that woman. Loved the way she felt against him, loved the way she smelled and looked, loved the way she fit perfectly in his arms, everything. There wasn’t a single inch of her body or mind that he didn’t admire.

A love like that had been entirely new to Sweet Pea. When he watched his mother pass, felt her life force around him evaporate and fade into emptiness, he thought it would be impossible for him to feel so strongly for another person. Finding Veronica and letting her in had not been in his plan. His designs on her after towing her expensive car into the shop that fateful day had been purely carnal, his attraction to her appearance and sharp tongue instant along the side of road. However, it hadn’t taken long before the lust had slid into something deeper, territory somewhat familiar yet still entirely fresh and unknown, but he couldn’t find it within himself to regret any of it.

Holding her, holding their baby with their joined hands like this, how could he?

All it had taken, though, was the slight bump beneath them and the quick intake of breath from her lips to send him falling back into that black pit of fear.

“Pea, the baby! It’s kicking,” she exclaimed, removing her hand from beneath his to give him a better opportunity to feel. Sure enough, another two seconds later and he could feel the abrupt tug of her skin upward to meet his fingertips. The baby was moving. _Their_ baby was moving.

“She must have known we were dancing, must have felt us both holding her.”

He felt his heart lurch upward into his throat, but he fought to swallow it back down with a chuckle he hoped didn’t sound too forced.

“What makes you so sure it’s a girl?”

She scoffed lightly, her hands now rubbing the surface of her belly in long, searching strokes, nearly willing the baby to kick again. “Because she kicks like her mother, hard and with purpose. Just like most Lodge women.”

His hands flew from her belly, replacing them in her hair as he pushed tendrils from her face back to tuck behind her ears, fingertips soothing her temples softly. “I guess if we’re going to have one fiery woman in this house, we might as well add another.”

His words were shaky, but he tried to disguise them as best he could. Everything around them, the sunlight, the muted pastels of the nursery, the happy woodland creatures staring at him from their decorative positions on the walls, it all came tumbling inward to suffocate him. It was all too much, too fast. They were having a baby, and though Sweet Pea knew his love for Veronica was ever-expanding, what would happen when the baby showed up? How was he ever going to have enough love, enough time and attention, for them both?

He needed to get out of there, needed to step away before his frightened demeanor could scare Veronica. She didn’t deserve to bear witness to his spiraling thoughts. She had been happy and content dancing in the nursery without him. He didn’t want to ruin her good moment, spoil her daydream.

He cleared his throat, his arms falling down to his sides before nervous fingers tucked themselves into his front pockets. “I, um, I need to run out really quickly and pick up some things. We’re out of milk.”

“What? I just bought a new jug.”

“Oh, well, I need to pick up a few extra things too. Fangs is supposed to come by tomorrow to watch the game so I want to make sure we have enough beer.”

By this point, Veronica had turned to observe him, watchful eyes slowly curving inward to narrow with confusion. The smile on her lips hadn’t faded, but the corners of her mouth were beginning to turn down. 

“Okay…” she replied. “Why don’t you pick up a pizza for dinner too? I’ve been craving pepperoni.”

He shot her a nervous grin as he inched his way back out of the room. “No problem, babe.”

As soon as she turned, her knees bending slightly to retrieve the linens that she had dropped earlier, he made a mad dash out into the hall and out the front door. It was only when he was behind the wheel of his truck, the engine running and the loud bellowing of Mark Knopfler filtering out through the speakers, that Sweet Pea was able to find his breath and release the tension that had been building in his muscles.

_How was he going to make this work?_

Veronica deserved better than someone who thought he couldn’t love their baby. Veronica deserved better than someone who couldn’t even love himself completely.

He slammed his palms down on the old steering wheel, letting out a strong grunt of frustration with the impact. Everything was so fucked up. The moment they had shared had been beautiful, touching even, a moment Sweet Pea felt he was totally undeserving of. Instead of cherishing the fact that fate had brought him this picturesque reality, a beautiful woman and a brand new baby and a perfect little home for them all, he cursed himself.

Everything and everyone he had loved had fallen apart because of him. His father left because he couldn’t handle his son. His mother died because the energy she had used to raise her only child alone had zapped her of the good health that she needed to survive. Cancer may have stolen her last breath, but he had killed her slowly, taking her for everything she had when he should have known her reserves were dwindling. He couldn’t do the same to Veronica. He couldn’t thrust himself on her life, on the life of their baby, and not feel like an absolute burden.

He needed to get out of there, needed to get away from that house and away from that future that had been given to him so graciously. As he backed out of the driveway, he felt as if he were spitting on fate’s gift, but he couldn’t be bothered to feel guilty.

He knew it was a mistake to leave, but felt it was a bigger mistake to stay.

_Just a few hours. Just a few hours to clear my head. That will be enough._

He took off down the street, cranking the music up louder to drown out the thoughts as they taunted him with every insecurity written in the story of Sweet Pea.

 

*******

 

It was just after eleven o’clock at night, and Sweet Pea was six beers deep into the evening, posted up at the bar inside the Whyte Wyrm. Beside him, Fangs was laughing loudly at some joke Hog Eye had said about one of their fellow Serpents across the wooden barrier, the two men tossing back shots in a show of brotherhood as the classic rock raged on from the speakers.

“That son of a bitch,” Fangs belted in a loud cheer of laughter, throwing back his head in an over exaggerated fashion in response to Hog Eye’s story. “I swear, every fucking time he comes into this bar, he picks up another chick. Where the Hell does he find these women desperate enough to sleep with him?”

“No clue, but at this point I’m surprised he’s got enough dick left and it hasn’t fallen off from all the tail he’s been tagging. An ugly mug like his, though, you gotta think he’s got enough cock to spare.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Fangs replied, lifting his bottle of Coors Light a few inches off the bar.

“His cock ain’t _that_ big,” Sweet Pea chimed in, his words slurring as he continued. “I remember seeing his naked ass in the locker room. There’s a whole lot of misplaced ego in those pants.”

“Slick as fuck with those words, then,” Fangs rationalized as he took a strong pull from his beer. “Don’t see how else he could finesse so many broads.”

“I mean, he’s still got a bigger cock than you, Fogarty,” Sweet Pea teased, and he was rewarded with a swift and severe tap on the bicep from Fangs’s fist.

“We can’t all be hung like horses, asshole. Some of us make do just fine with our _skill_.”

“Right…” Sweet Pea smirked. He gestured to his beer as he shook the bottom side to side in his hand. “Can I get another round, Hog Eye? And a shot of Jack.”

“Two,” Fangs shouted out, holding up two fingers for the bartender to see. He sidled up closer to Sweet Pea as he observed his friend with watchful, if not a bit inebriated, eyes. “What’s going on with you tonight, man?”

“What are you talking about?” Sweet Pea scoffed, trying to brush off his friend’s concerns, hoping to divert the conversation away from the thoughts that were nagging at the back of his brain. “Can’t a guy come to a bar and drink just for the Hell of it?”

“He can, but you’ve had that look on your face all night – that real _mean_ look like you might punch someone out – and I haven’t seen you drink this much in a while. I’m surprised you can even crack a joke tonight, the way your mouth has been twisted up like you just ate shit.”

“It’s nothing, man. Just trying to have a good time.”

“Uh huh,” Fangs replied, clearly not buying it. “I see your back on your bullshit again.”

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?” Sweet Pea was growing more and more irritated, wanting nothing more than to dodge Fangs’s accusations but failing himself miserably, his now angry tone giving him away the more he tried to deflect.

“It means you should be home, dude. You should be home, with your girl, planning for this baby you’re about to have. Didn’t you tell me you promised Veronica you’d stop coming to the Wyrm so much? Is that why you’ve been here every week? Are you _trying_ to fuck up a good thing?”

“I’m not trying to do anything but have a good time.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Fangs sighed heavily, pushing his beer away, hoping Sweet Pea would do the same. “Look, man – I get it. I’m not trying to bust your balls here. But you really don’t know how good you have it. I would _kill_ to have a girl like Veronica love me the way she loves you. Hell, I’d love it if anyone looked at me the way she looks at you.”

“What about Keller?” Sweet Pea asked, looking at Fangs from the corner of his eye as he took a swig from his fresh beer. “I thought you two were going hot and heavy for a while.”

Fangs shrugged, doing his best to casually brush off his own personal issue from the table. “We’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from each other lately. Besides, that’s not the point right now. The point is, you’ve got something great going for you and you’re about to really fuck it up.”

Sweet Pea shoved himself back from the bar, taking a single wobbly step before he righted himself. “I don’t have to listen to this shit right now.”

“Well, you better start sobering up. I texted Veronica a few minutes ago.”

“The fuck, man?” Sweet Pea groaned, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Dude, you need to go home. You need to get your shit straight.”

“Fuck this,” Sweet Pea replied, giving Fangs a view of his shoulder as he began to turn away.

“Hold up, man. Where are you going?” Fangs called after him, but Sweet Pea hastened his pace, pushing through a group of two guys playing pool as he fled from facing the responsibilities listed to him shamefully by his best friend.

One of the guys spun around just as Sweet Pea was shoving into him, his face lit up in an angry shade of red, a dusky cocktail of rage and intoxication lighting up the man’s features.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, man,” the guy warned, his face unfamiliar to a regular like Sweet Pea. The fact that some stranger in _his_ bar was cursing him out only added fuel to the fire raging inside him, and something within Sweet Pea quickly snapped like a rotten twig.

“Fuck off,” he spat back, his towering frame glaring down at the beefy man with the red face.

“You lookin’ to get your ass kicked, boy?”

“Who’s threatening me?” The two of them repositioned into a stand-off, their fists beginning to clench respectively by their sides as they each squared their shoulders and planted their feet opposite the other. Somewhere in the background, the music changed into a clash of guitar and drums and loud metal screams.

“It’s not a threat. It’s a fucking promise,” the stranger sneered, clearly not bothered by the advantage of Sweet Pea’s height over him. He had the muscles to boost his confidence, his biceps bulging through the thick denim of his jacket. He reached back to hand the pool stick he was holding to his accomplice, another strange face in a pair of leathers and a ragged looking beard.

“Well, what the fuck are we waiting for, then?” And suddenly, Sweet Pea launched himself forward, his fist clashing with the man’s nose in a swift and angry collision of knuckle against thin skin and bone, blood spurting out from both nostrils as the man’s eyes flared up with red and black dilated pupils.

The man retaliated with a punch to the gut, causing Sweet Pea to topple inward, clutching his stomach in instinct before the rush of adrenaline kicked in and he began to feel the fury race through his veins. He stood tall and landed another shot against the man’s cheek, reveling in the sound of the crack as the wide brim of his fist landed against the man’s fleshy jaw.

Everything moved in slow motion as the two men pounded away at each other, but the moment only lasted for a minute or so before they were broken apart. Sweet Pea could feel Fangs pull him back from the scene, could smell the whiskey still on his own breath, could hear the sound of the jukebox fading into a dull echo as the roar of the crowd and the rush of blood to his ears overpowered the room.

Just as Sweet Pea began to come back to his senses, the adrenaline pounding in his veins slowing to a barely existent flow in his system, he could see the heads of the crowd turn away from the area of the fight, their direction aimed at the entrance of the bar where a figure slowly emerged from the doorway.

“What is going on?”

Sweet Pea was the last to turn his head, the last to see the concerned face of Veronica Lodge transition into pure anger and disappointment. She stood with her hands bracketing her wide hips, her feet covered in house shoes and a long jacket covering her body. Her hair was tousled as if she had been awakened from sleep, the makeup on her face long removed. Still, her eyes wore shadows, bags beneath the brown as she looked at him with a mixture of fatigue, sadness, and disbelief.

In that instant, Sweet Pea felt nothing but shame, the pain of the blows from moments before seeping into his skin as a cold sheen of fear came to the surface. The pit of his stomach fell as she looked him up and down with annoyance and grief and something that made the doubts and insecurities rise up even more from the hidden depths of his mind – a lack of surprise.

She had expected him to crack like this. Despite the months of support he tried to give her, despite the time and the effort and all the work they had poured into their relationship, into planning for this baby, she still had expected him to fail just as miserably as he had minutes before, drunk and sloppy and itching to lash out.

“Let’s go, Sweet Pea,” she commanded with a low tone, enough to cause all of the men in the room to cower inward in reaction. The women in the room looked to each other with knowing glances, some shaking their heads, some clucking their tongues, all of them knowing the price it cost loving a man like a Serpent.

Veronica watched as Sweet Pea took a hesitant step forward, and then another, his head held low as a drop of blood trickled down his cheek from his temple. She looked toward Fangs, her face just as cold and mad as ever.

“You – I need you to follow us home in Pea’s truck.”

Fangs nodded without question, following the couple out as they went through the bar entrance. Behind him, Sweet Pea could hear the snickering of the prior opponent, their laughter as they undoubtedly joked about him being dragged off like a kid in trouble by his very short and very pregnant girlfriend. Still, he didn’t care. The only thing he could think about was how mad she had looked in that bar, staring at him like he had screwed everything up.

And he had. He really, truly had.

They sat in silence for the entire ride, tucked into Veronica’s seldom used sedan as they drove through the dark and quiet streets of the Southside neighborhoods. When they got home, Veronica turned off the ignition and directed him with an icy tone to go inside and wait for her.

He watched as she stepped from her car to his truck, where Fangs sat idling in the driver’s seat. They exchanged a few words before she waddled back up the drive toward the front of the house, slamming the screen door shut behind her as she walked in.

Their face off was similar to the one he had just been in at the Wyrm, but this felt more severe, more damaging than the one he shared with the stranger. Veronica looked pissed and tired, her hands settling on her stomach as she inhaled a slow, deep breath.

“What happened tonight, Pea? I want to know what’s going on with you. I thought you were going out to get dinner. I waited for you, waited until I got too hungry and had to make do with what we had here. I waited for you until I fell asleep, too tired and worn out from this baby to continue feeling the fear I felt when you didn’t come home. Do you know what I was thinking? Do you know how much I worry about you? For Christ’s sake, you’re the member of a motorcycle club. You guys don’t always make friends, and the thought of you hurt somewhere….” She shook her head in disgust. “I almost wish you had been. I can’t believe you went to the Wyrm. I can’t believe you left me, got drunk, and picked a fight in the bar.”

“Veronica –“

“What the Hell has gotten into you?”

He looked down shamefully at his feet, not knowing quite what to say to make any of the situation better for either of them.

“What the Hell do you want me to say, Veronica?”

“I want you to tell me why it was more important for you to go get drunk with your buddies at the bar than it was to come home with food for your pregnant girlfriend. I want you to tell me why you broke your promise, why spending time at the Wyrm has been more of a priority to you than I have been. I want you to tell me why I shouldn’t feel broken-hearted right now.”

He stood in silence for a few seconds, still unsure of any explanation that would net anything remotely positive. He felt the despair sink in, the grim prospect of her hurt feelings leaving them in an uneasy place.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Veronica. I don’t have any answers for you that is going to make any of this better. I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I don’t know what I could say that’s going to make you feel good about this.”

She stared at him for a solid minute before she looked away, her eyes meeting the ground, meeting the walls, meeting anything but him. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but the fighter inside her kept her strong and kept the tears at bay.

“I want you to stay with Fangs tonight. He’s waiting for you in the truck. I can’t deal with you, with _this_ right now. I’m exhausted, Pea. I’m way too exhausted with my own baggage to be dealing with yours tonight.”

He wanted to shout, wanted to throw himself at her feet with pleas for mercy, words of love and apology and contrition, but all he could do was sigh and nod his head sadly in agreeance.

“Okay,” he said, finding his feet as he crossed toward the doorway of the living room into the hall. “I’ll grab my stuff.”

Veronica didn’t say another word as she stood waiting, her arms now crossed over her chest as she watched him drag a duffel bag from the bedroom, his steps less awkward as his face showed signs of sobering up. There were no kisses, no goodbyes uttered. Not even a cold “good night” came from her lips. Instead, he stood in the open front door, looking at her with sad, pleading eyes before he finally nodded and walked out into the night.

She watched from the window as he stomped his boots over the lawn toward his truck, throwing the bag into the back before climbing into the passenger side seat. As they backed out of the drive, his eyes met hers from the dashboard, sadness emitting from them both as the words left unspoken dangled in the air like a weight.

She waited until they drove off, waited until they were at least a few blocks away, counting down the seconds before she allowed the tears to fall, streaming down her cheeks like hot rain, paired with the wails of her cries as they echoed around the empty house, the walls around her no longer feeling like home.

 

*******

 

The next morning, Sweet Pea stepped into the house, the bright lights shining from the back window pouring through the living room and hitting him square in the eye. He winced in reaction, his head pounding with his hangover, but still he pressed on, the loud sound of his boots echoing through the entire house.

The space was well lit and cheery, but the silence felt too eerie, too uncomfortable and unnatural. He had grown so used to coming home to noise, the speakers on full blast as Veronica played some pop single as she flitted about the kitchen or the TV repeating some dialogue of a trashy reality show he knew she was obsessed with. Now, as he stepped softly from the living room to the backyard, peering through the sliding door for any trace of her on the lawn, he was greeted with the firm reality that she wasn’t home.

The pit of his stomach fell out through his feet as it hit him – she left.

He flew back into the living room and down the hall, pushing open the door of the master bedroom at the end. Still no trace of Veronica. He stomped over to the bathroom, his eyes gazing over the counter to find a few choice items missing – her toothbrush, comb, a few bottles of product that he knew she used religiously. He shook his head as he fled the bathroom and headed for the nursery, praying her departure was temporary.

As he assessed the room with wide eyes, his hands braced on the open door frame, his feet frozen to the floor, he knew he was wrong to hope. She never would have taken crucial baby items if she thought she’d be coming back.

The crib was still there, but the car seat was gone, as well as the embroidered diaper bag with all of the essentials she had so diligently packed a few weeks before. He pulled open the drawers of the dresser under the changing table, cataloging the clothing in his brain, figuring that she had taken about half the onesies she had bought. Still, there was one she had left behind – the Harley onesie she had been so excited to show him. He reached out for it, clutching the article in between his shaking fingers and bringing it up to his face to inhale, the scent of her still lingering on the fabric. He could still remember the way she held the onesie close in a mock hug, so thrilled at her daydream of their baby decked out in clothing much like his or her daddy’s.

When he opened his eyes back up, haunted by the reverie, his eyes fell upon the framed picture she had placed on top of the dresser beside the changing pad, a photo of them both from the barbeque embracing in front of the Wyrm. He stood tall behind her, his hands resting easily on her swollen baby, their faces both decorated with large grins. He remembered holding her for that photo, the way his heart leapt having them both in his grip, and reality hit him like a ton of bricks – he had lost them both.

In a fit of rage and guilt, he threw the frame across the room, watching as it smashed to the ground in an angry shatter. The bits of glass scattered into the carpet. He reached for the changing pad and shoved it to the floor, along with a handful of lotion and powder bottles, a small stack of neatly placed infant diapers, ignoring the pain he felt in his heart as everything clattered to the ground.

Next, he grabbed the mobile over the crib, a fine invention of small woodland critters dangling on taut strings, and tossed it across the room, the sad smile of the squirrel and otter mocking him as they flew toward the wall. He picked up the Harley onesie once again, his fists gripping the fabric as they parted, trying desperately to tear the cloth in two, but he stopped, his brow no longer furrowed, his rage turning into something more painful.

The echo of sadness spread through his system and he stepped backwards, surveying the damage he had caused, shaking his head side to side as he came to terms with what he had done. The nursery was ruined, all at the hands of his rage and lack of control, both of which had also cost him the love of his life and the one opportunity he would have to be a father.

His back slammed against the wall, and like a dam breaking, the tears welling up in his lids poured forth. Sweet Pea slumped to the ground, his heels sliding across the carpet before digging in, knees coming up to brace his shaky hands. His eyes stayed glued to the ground just in front of his feet, thin fibers of carpet that mocked him with their stiff and impersonal stare, and he realized just how empty he felt inside.

Veronica had left. She had taken the diaper bag, the handful of onesies, and the car seat, leaving the empty crib and the ghost of her presence behind. Everything around him felt haunted, the whisper of a future he had kissed away with one too many nights of wallowing too deep in his own bullshit. She had had enough and had taken off, leaving his drunk shell of a body collapsed on Fangs’ couch without a call or a text to warn him she was going.

That she was gone.

He knew she had gone to Betty’s. She wouldn’t go back to the city to stay with her mother and she wouldn’t have had enough time to find a place for herself. She would have gone straight to Betty, who would have stood on her front porch with literal open arms, ready and willing to receive her friend who waddled up the steps in emotional distress. He could picture Veronica now – exhausted, mascara dried on her face from old tears shed, doing everything she could to keep her chin up and maintain that stubborn Lodge pride she was known for. She’d be heavy with the baby, a comforting hand on her tummy as she tried to soothe the little one inside her, the one she had taken with her.

And now he was without them both.

_What have I done?_

The wounded part of Sweet Pea unpacked his sorry self-pity onto the floor beside him, mindlessly digging a place for it into the foundation of the house for him to surround himself in, shrouded by the physical and metaphorical walls of his pain and inner turmoil and shame.

_Oh, how he felt such shame._

Sweet Pea felt worthless, shameful, a head hung low from the weight of his poor decisions that he didn’t realize until then had dragged him down so deep he couldn’t see. And now Veronica was gone, her disappointment in him too powerful to push aside anymore, and he couldn’t blame her. If he had loved someone had pitiful as him, he would have left too.

There was a part of him that wanted to get up off the carpet, but he felt too buried beneath his guilt to find the strength to stand. He had been avoiding the reality of their circumstances for far too long, and now it had all blown up in his face. Sweet Pea shook his head, his trembling fingers rising to run through his tangled and sleep-tossed hair.

He couldn’t be man enough to step up, put away his desire to stay the unattached way he was, and be the rock she needed. They were supposed to be in this together. He was supposed to come home every day after work with a smile on his face for her. That’s probably all she really expected from him. To show up. To show her affection. To be available for her if she needed something, anything. But he mistook her self-sufficiency for complete independence, took advantage of her strength and used every opportunity he could cling to as a means of escaping the reality he just couldn’t face.

Veronica asked him for the bare minimum and he couldn’t even do that.

_I_ am _worthless._

He looked around the room, his eyes catching on the soft brown decal of two bears on the wall across from him, a papa bear looking up at a cub on his back, and immediately Sweet Pea felt complete sadness. It wasn’t just Veronica he had let down. He had disappointed them both.

He was no better than his old man.

For years, he had struggled to avoid the shadows of his father, that dark specter that followed him like a horseman, galloping behind him and all he could do was run. He thought he had sure footing, had finally overcome the hauntings of his neglectful and disappointing father, but Sweet Pea had only been fooling himself. As it had turned out, the horseman had been hot on his heels, too close to see from the corner of his eye, and now it had come to consume him, fill him with the same sorrow and same humiliation his father felt the day he had walked out on his son.

He felt hollow, stuffed with sawdust, weightless like a ghost – the shell of a man who could have had it all and threw it all away.

If he were a better man, he’d get up off the ground and drive over to Jughead’s, flowers in hand and a mouthful of pretty promises that he knew Veronica wanted to hear. But Sweet Pea had never felt less like a man in his entire life, and so instead he stayed on the ground, his eyes watering with thick salty tears that continued to spill, tumbling down his dirty cheeks that were still covered in overnight stubble.

If he ever had a chance again with Veronica, he knew he’d have to make it right the right way. He needed to get his shit together, needed to pack up his pain and throw it in the garbage outside, put on that strong face and shield that she needed from him.

He needed to face the one thing he feared the most and look it in the eye, turn around and stare the shadow of his father down, unafraid to stand tall and fight to be a better man than his father ever could. And he needed to look really hard into his heart, into his mind, and face the truth he still couldn’t speak out loud but felt stronger and louder than anything else – he actually wanted to be a dad. He wanted to be a father, wanted to be a good man that loved his woman, loved his family and provided for them and fought for them.

But the steps to take to become that man required more than he could afford in that moment, and Sweet Pea sank deeper into the floor, his sobs becoming wails as he mourned the life he could have had if he hadn’t pissed it all away.

 

 

 


	8. Month Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink. 
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a treat, I am updating this story with an additional chapter, so I hope you all enjoy the second to last chapter in this story. One more month to go before the big delivery!!!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

** Month Eight **

 

 

For the next couple of days, Sweet Pea walked around the house like a zombie, pacing from kitchen to couch to bathroom back to couch in the same pair of bland gray sweatpants and ratty black shirt with the construction company logo on the front, holes over places where Sweet Pea felt just as empty and exposed.

His face had blossomed a thin layer of black hair that sprouted from ear to ear, mangy and dried with old tears and food crumbles. His eyes were in a constant state of glazed over, puffy and red from all the anger and sadness he had shed floating around like a ghost in his own home, the home he had once walked around freely and happily alone. The walls had been changed in such a short amount of time, every single one of them a portrait of Veronica and the life they had shared, brief and beautiful and bruising now that it was gone. She was gone.

The couch cushions held an imprint of his body, angled in toward the crease where he had curled up and cried night after night, drunk and angry and torn apart thinking of how easily she had left him. How much he had pushed her away. How he had cost himself the very best thing he had in his miserable wretched life.

Suddenly, his memories of the house before her time didn’t see so cheery. They were hollow and sad, echoes of a man who feigned every good day the best he could when really he felt empty and worthless.

His father had taught him how to feel that way, the shell of a man he desperately tried not to turn into but the truth was inevitable, proven by how quick Sweet Pea had driven Veronica out of his life.

He shook his head as he carried another empty bottle of beer to the kitchen, his feet dragging heavily, his words an incoherent slur as he muttered to himself about how much of a fuck up he was. He kicked the lid of the trash can up with his big toe, listening to the sickening way the glass shattered at the bottom of the bin, clattering against other discarded bottles, the reminder of what his life had turned into – empty bottles that once held promise of better feelings but containing nothing but shame and guilt.

He closed his eyes, feeling the shrugging of his shoulders turning into something more powerful, his entire body wracked with another series of sobs that stole from his chest into the evening air. He reached down with a shaky hand to grip the kitchen counter as the tears fell from his eyes, his knees growing weaker and weaker with every wail, and his heart squeezing so tight with emotion he thought he might die.

He missed her. _God,_ he missed her more than anything. He missed her more than the shame he felt for his own actions, more than the humiliation of his current state, old vomit clinging to the hem of his shirt from where he last wiped his mouth minutes before when he had thrown up.

_If she could only see me now,_ he thought, _she would know she made the right decision._

He could hear the scraping of the glass behind him, the back door reflecting the pitiful face of his dog Fangs who held a solitary paw to the window, begging for entrance back into the house. Sweet Pea wiped his tears and snotty nose with his sleeve as he stumbled over to the door, cursing himself for forgetting about the dog and how he had let him out to pee hours ago.

“I’m sorry, boy,” he mumbled sorrowfully to the pooch as he opened the door, reaching down to pat him on the fleshy area on the back of his neck, his aim a bit shotty as he got the boxer on the ear instead. Fangs just trotted over to his pillow next to the couch and collapsed onto the cushion, his muzzle settling on his folded paws, his big brown eyes staring wide at Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea shook his head as he drug a heavy hand over his face, trying to break himself free from the stupor he had been drowning in. He was no good to Fangs like this. He was no good to Veronica like this. _He was no good to himself like this._

He sighed through the pain, his knuckles aching, red and puffy and scraped, looking worse than the wall behind the couch that now housed a fist-size hole, an angry reminder of the violence and the hurt and the impulsivity he felt when he was angry.

He crumpled onto the couch beside the dog and exhaled fully, his breath tinged with the vapors of alcohol. He felt so lost, so stuck. He had no idea how he was going to crawl out of the hole he had dug for himself in that house, practically building a fortress of sorrow within its walls. He hadn’t called his friends in days, the red light of his voicemail flashing incessantly, but he knew every call that the machine held. Fangs, Jughead, even FP had bothered to reach out, each one of them leaving some form of sympathy or angry greeting through the telephone line. He screened every one, too pitiful and too ashamed to pick up the damn phone. He only wanted to talk to her, and he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

She hated him, had to. He wouldn’t blame her. He was a right mess, too numb to shower, too uncaring to cook a decent meal that didn’t consist of boiled noodles or burnt popcorn. He had spiraled out, fallen apart, finally seeing that she had been the glue that held him together. He hadn’t realized just how vital she was to his life until her absence stole the breath from his very lungs.

The phone rang, the latest in a series of veiled threats from Fangs, his best friend’s attempt at tough love almost turning comical as the biker warned that ‘he’d come over and kick Pea’s ass if he didn’t call him back.’ Sweet Pea chuckled to himself, a single shrug of the shoulders and utterance of the lips. Even in his pitiful state, he knew Fangs could never take him down.

He knew eventually his friend would make good on his words. He’d have to get off of the couch and get back to living, or rather get back to making some sort of wage so he could continue to live. FP’s messages made it very clear he was giving Sweet Pea a solid week to get his shit together before he sent the crew over to fetch his sorry ass.

Sweet Pea scratched his neck and stood from the couch, trying to find his balance as the ground started to spin. Just as he found purchase with the ground, ready to take a step toward the ringing phone, it went quiet and still. He waved it off with a casual hand, thinking he’d catch the next one, and collapsed back onto the couch with a “humph!”

He slumped over, his eyes glazing again as the sun began to set through the living room window, his mouth snapping shut as his head slammed heavily against the pillow against the couch arm.

When he woke next, it was to the pounding sound of his front door and the blinding light of the morning glare, pouring through the slats of his sliding door mini-blinds. He winced as he tried to sit up, his head throbbing and his breath stale with old beer and sleep. He wiped the crust from his eyes as his feet found solid ground, hunched over his knees as he tried to properly wake up.

He finally stood, shouting “Alright!” to the person beating against his front door, and wobbled over to the foyer, nearly tripping over a pair of his work boots, dried mud caked on the sides and heels dirtying up his bare feet.

He undid the padlocks, sliding back the top lock as he mentally prepared himself for whoever was on the other side of the door, and pulled the barrier back with squinted, hungover eyes.

Fangs stood on the doormat, his designer sunglasses perched on top of his well-coiffed hair, his Serpents jacket covering a shirt with some odd paisley design and the top of his clean denim jeans. The two of them looked an odd sight side by side, like a brand new car next to a gutter.

“You look like shit,” he greeted, pushing past Sweet Pea into the house, his shove nearly toppling the tall Serpent over. Sweet Pea cursed to himself, his knees nearly giving out, his body still somewhat drunk from the night before.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, shutting the door gently behind him to avoid any loud noises. That didn’t stop Fangs from stomping into the kitchen with his heavy combat boots.

“Well, if you’re going to destroy yourself, it’s better to have an audience, am I right?” Fangs circled around the room, taking in the sight of old dishes with crusted on food, old bottles and cigarette butts littering the counter tops, and the garbage piling up nearly just as high. His normally calm milk chocolate eyes landed on the scraggly face of his best friend, and Sweet Pea could read the disgust and concern clear as day.

“What are you doing, man?” Fangs asked. “No wonder Veronica left you.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious. This place is a fucking pig sty, Pea. Veronica would be pissed seeing this house she worked so hard on torn apart like this. You should be ashamed.”

Sweet Pea took a step toward Fangs, his movements still shaky but the threat evident. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again – fuck off, Fangs. Fuck right off. You have no idea how I feel right now.”

“No? Well, is it anything close to how Veronica must feel, shacked up at someone else’s house, about to have a baby alone and probably scared out of her mind, because the father of her child can’t get over his own bullshit? You’re sitting in this house, feeling sorry for yourself, and she’s over at Betty’s trying to keep it together.”

Sweet Pea looked down at the ground, shame overtaking him once again like a gray veil. “She made her choice. She’s better off, anyway.” He turned to stalk away toward the living room, desperately wanting to bury himself back underneath the couch covers.

“Just what a coward would say,” Fangs followed, hot on his trail. “You’re turning into your old man more and more every day.”

Sweet Pea pivoted on his heel fast, too fast, nearly toppling over to the ground on unsteady feet. He pushed a finger into Fangs’s chest. “Listen, Fogarty! I don’t need you coming over here to bust my balls. I already feel like shit enough.”

“You think your balls are the only things getting busted right now? I’m about to slap some serious sense into you, Pea. Your woman left you and I’ve never seen you look this bad.” His hands rose to plant on Sweet Pea’s shoulders, centering him with both a steady stance and a steady gaze. “I’m worried about you, man. You’re scaring the shit out of me, and I’m just worried.”

Suddenly, Sweet Pea couldn’t hold his rage in place anymore, taken under by the current of his emotions as the tears broke free and he began to sob, a giant of a man crumbling beneath the hold of his much shorter, yet sturdier friend. His chest shook, his lungs gasping for air as the wail broke free from his body, echoing through the hollow house and sending goosebumps up Fangs’s arms. His best friend pulled him in closer, an embrace of brothers, and Sweet Pea released all the pain and all the hurt he had been storing away over the last few days.

Fangs stayed silent, offering nothing more than a solid pair of arms and shoulders for his friend to lean on, and somewhere in the back of his anguished mind Sweet Pea felt grateful for his support. He had been wallowing alone in his pity and his grief, and he realized just how good it felt to know someone still cared, especially when he couldn’t care for himself.

They stood in between the living room and kitchen for another ten minutes, Sweet Pea emptying himself of all the sorrow until he felt like his body had suffered from a drought, dry and cracked and hollow. Fangs insisted he jump into the shower to clean off the stink of the last couple days, and Sweet Pea had never felt so rejuvenated by the water, the heat and steam penetrating every inch of his chapped and fissured skin, his hair that had grown greasy and limp.

Thirty minutes later, meandering out of the bathroom in a fresh pair of jeans and a plain burnt orange tee, Sweet Pea found the dog and his namesake curled up on the couch, Fangs busy typing away at his phone.

“What are you doing?” Sweet Pea asked, gesturing to the phone. He noticed the living room had been tidied up, the remaining beer bottles and empty chip bags stashed presumably in the kitchen with the other garbage.

“Ordering us a few pizzas. You need actual food, Pea. Not this shit in bags and cups that you’ve been eating.”

Sweet Pea ran a hand through his wet hair, pulling the black tendrils over his bruised and sore knuckles, and plopped down on the couch next to his dog. He began to scratch him tenderly behind the ears, thankful for the companion who had stuck with him through the worst of the week. When Fangs finally put down the phone, Sweet Pea cleared his throat, removing the lump that had begun to form.

“What am I going to do, Fangs? I’ve got to get her back. I can’t do this without her.”

His friend stared forward at the wall, nodding his head silently in thought. “Shit’s not going to be easy, Pea. You really hurt her.”

Sweet Pea hesitated for a moment before he asked the one question that had been on his mind since his friend had shown up at his front door. “How’s she doing?”

Fangs was silent again for another moment. “She’s okay, better than I would be in her situation. You know her. I think she’s trying to put on a brave face but when she thinks you’re not looking, she seems terrified.”

Sweet Pea shook his head. “Man, I really fucked this up.”

Fangs nodded in agreement. “You really fucked this up.”

The pizza showed up twenty minutes later, giving the men plenty of time to finish cleaning up the rest of the living room and part of the kitchen. After scarfing down the better part of two supreme pizzas, Fangs and Sweet Pea divvied up the trash bags and began piling up the remaining bottles, cigarette butts, and food containers. The counters were eventually wiped down, the dishes scrubbed and dried. Fangs swept the floor and Sweet Pea followed behind with the mop, the floors gleaming like new when they were done.

The trash was carried out to the bins, the carpet in the living room vacuumed, and the dog bowl cleaned and refilled with fresh water and food. The last room they touched was the nursery, a space tinged with so much pain and regret that Sweet Pea had to choke his way through the wreckage, stepping through chipped pieces of wood and tossed about diapers as he and Fangs worked to repair the damage he had done.

When they were done, the room was put back together as good as it could be. Fangs had managed to find a replacement for the crib mobile on the company’s website, placing an order through Amazon and slapping Sweet Pea on the back in a brotherly gesture while muttering ‘don’t worry about it, man’ when Sweet Pea tried to cover the charges.

The two men collapsed on the couch when the house was finally clean, the sun setting hours before, and they decided to spend their remaining time catching the last half of a Celtics game. Fangs had run out for a six pack and they feasted on leftover cold pizza, screaming at the television as the players bounded up and down the court, and Sweet Pea felt the closest semblance to peace he had felt in days.

Fangs passed out sometime around eleven, slumped over onto the couch with the dog licking the tips of his pizza-stained fingers that dangled over the edge of the sofa. Sweet Pea grinned and shut off the television, leaving room for Fangs on the couch as he trudged down the hall toward his bedroom. He had been avoiding his bed since Veronica had left, too afraid to feel what it would be like sleeping next to nobody. He had grown so used to her presence, the whole room felt like a tomb, quiet and empty but for the dead he felt in his heart.

He crawled beneath the covers, the cool sheets inviting, and he lay staring up at the dark ceiling for what felt like hours before his heavy eyes finally succumbed to sleep, his mind drifting off into a void of black, dreamless and silent.

When morning arrived, Sweet Pea opened his eyes and stared back up at the ceiling, now tinged with the gray light of morning on the white popcorn texture. He felt the hollowness in his chest begin to fill with more sorrow and pity, but he shook himself free, tossing back the covers before his pain could overtake him again.

When Fangs arose from his slumber, he found Sweet Pea sitting at his dining room table, freshly shaven with a black cup of coffee cradled in his hands. The two men finished their caffeine and decided to hit up Pop’s for an early morning feast of pancakes, bacon, and a single fried egg. When the food was all consumed and their bodies filled with sustenance, they gathered in at their booth and devised a plan to get Sweet Pea’s life back on track.

 

*******

 

Veronica folded a pair of denim shorts, freshly laundered and still warm, and placed them into an open drawer in the guest bedroom of Betty and Jughead’s Southside house. She sighed to herself, barely remembering what it felt like to wear shorts and pants that small, trading them in weeks ago for maternity clothes. As if in reply, her stomach fluttered and she felt the baby kick, a little nudge from the skin on her right side.

“I’m not regretting anything,” she replied, a laugh on her lips. “But you should have seen your mother when she wasn’t the size of a Buick.”

“She looked just as beautiful as the woman I see right now.”

Veronica turned to see Betty standing in the open doorway, her arms folded over each other, her ponytail high and tucked to the side of her head which was leaning against the door frame. Today, she wore a pair of khaki capris and a pastel pink tank top, and Veronica quietly envied her for her still-svelte frame.

“You’re too sweet, B.”

Betty unfolded her arms and pushed away from the doorway, stepping into the bedroom. “Are you settling in okay? I know it’s not the Pembroke or anything, but our laundry services are almost as luxurious.”

Veronica grinned and stepped into the open arms of her best friend, leaning her head onto the waiting and willing shoulder. “Thank you for everything, Betty. I really mean it.”

“How are you doing?” Betty asked, her arms holding Veronica out for a look-over. “How do you feel?”

The Lodge woman pursed her lips and nodded, looking down at the soft carpet of the guest room floor. “I’m doing okay. Adjusting as well as I can. I don’t think the baby is happy, though. Must not like the change in accommodations, though honestly I couldn’t have asked for better lodgings. Or a better friend. Thank you for all you and Jug have done for me, for us. We just kind of showed up on your doorstep, suitcase in hand.”

“Think nothing of it, Veronica. I know you’d do the same for me.”

Veronica sighed again, pulling away from Betty’s grasp. “I wouldn’t have to do this for you. That’s the problem.”

Betty bit the inside of her cheek, refraining from the words she wanted to say, the reasoning she had assumed for Sweet Pea’s actions. She could see her best friend was in pain, even if she didn’t want to talk about it. She admired Veronica for her strength, but internally shook her head at her stubbornness and pride.

“I’m sure Sweet Pea is sorry he screwed up.”

Veronica shot her a dirty look and she regretted not holding back more. “He still screwed up, though, and that’s not okay,” she recovered.

Veronica sat back onto the bed, her knees bent around the mattress as her palms settled on the comforter. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t tried to reach out yet. Maybe he really did get the message.” She placed a single hand on her active belly, rubbing out the little shoves from inside her womb. “We’re probably better off without him, anyway.”

Betty frowned, the defeated tone of her friend’s voice breaking her heart. “He probably feels ashamed, Veronica. He’s a tough guy, but he loves you. I know he didn’t always act like it, but I know he loves that baby too. I can’t imagine losing both of you feels very good to him right now.”

“But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t keep pretending like everything was okay, going to some of the appointments by myself or falling asleep alone because he couldn’t get his act together. It wasn’t just his drinking either, Betty. I’ve been feeling it for weeks now. I didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to admit it, but it’s clear as day. He’s not ready to become a dad. He’s not ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“Can you really blame him, though? What guy really is ready for that kind of change, especially when it was as unexpected as this?”

“Jughead would be ready,” Veronica threw back at her, frustration mounting as logic began to sink in, starting to worry maybe she had made the wrong move.

Betty looked down at the ground before joining Veronica on the bed, fiddling with her fingers as she concentrated on a particular piece of carpet fabric that stuck out from the wall’s edge. “Jughead was scared, V. He was scared when we thought we were pregnant.”

Veronica’s head snapped up and over at her friend, her brown eyes searching every inch of her face for an expression. “What do you mean?”

Betty sighed. “Shortly after the wedding, I thought I was pregnant. I didn’t tell you because it was still so new and I wanted to get checked out by the doctor first. Jughead was excited, but I could see it all over his face – the pale shade of fear that always comes over him when he’s faced with something he’s not ready for. The night before my appointment, I got my period.”

Betty was quiet for a beat before she finished, “I’ve never seen him look so relieved.”

“Betty, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

Betty shook her head, breaking herself free from the trance of the carpet. “It’s okay. It turns out I’m not ready for that either right now. We’re both just settling into married life. A baby would have been too much too soon. But you see what I mean? For Sweet Pea to have been this excited for so long, I can’t imagine his fear had anything to do with more than just that – fear of change, fear of being faced with something too soon he isn’t ready to deal with. But he came around. He stumbled, but he’ll come back around too. He loves you, V.”

She placed a gentle hand over Veronica, who stared at their joined palms, tears welling up in her eyes. She gasped for a breath and looked up at the ceiling, desperately trying to keep them from falling. “Oh God, Betty. Have I made a mistake?”

Betty shook her head and smiled gently. “No. Ultimately, you did what you felt was right for you and for the baby. You had to listen to that instinct, and you did. I just didn’t want you to think he didn’t care.”

Veronica exhaled heavily, trying to will back the leftover tears that clung to her bottom eyelid. “I know he cared. I even know he loved me, still loves me. But I had to leave, Betty. I had to get out of there. If I didn’t, I knew I’d… I knew I’d…”

“You’d drown,” Betty finished for her, the corners of her lips lifting slightly in sympathy.

Veronica nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “Exactly. I was worried I’d be left stranded all alone on an island with the baby, and he’d still be the same Sweet Pea who couldn’t be there like I needed him to be.”

“But are you ready to give him up completely? If he comes back, looking for a second chance, are you going to be able to tell him no?”

Veronica closed her eyes as a single tear fell, the rest drying back into her eyes. “I’ll have to.”

Betty gave her another minute to compose herself before standing, brushing her palms down her capris to smooth out the wrinkles. She inhaled audibly and offered Veronica an encouraging smile.

“Let’s turn the topic around to something a little more positive. How about we take a week and enjoy the spoils of my mom’s cabin by Lake George? We can bring a bunch of snacks, make a few mocktails, and sit outside and soak up a little nature for a few days… a little babymoon, if you will? I know this is something you’d typically do with your spouse but, well, I’m sure I’d be decent substitute.”

Veronica smiled and wiped away the streak left behind by the tear on her cheek. “You’d be more than decent, Betty. That sounds wonderful, honestly. It would be nice to get out of Riverdale for a few days and reset before the baby gets here. Are you sure Jughead wouldn’t mind me stealing you away for that long?”

Betty shook her head. “Not at all. Actually, I’m sure he’d enjoy having a few nights away from domesticity to hang with the boys. Between you and me, I think he’s been avoiding the Serpents because he doesn’t want to piss me off. He thinks I’m going to accuse him of picking sides, and there’s no way he’d risk sleeping on the couch for a few beers with Sweet Pea.”

“B, you really don’t have to jump on him for that. I don’t expect him to give up his friends because Pea and I couldn’t manage to work things out.”

Betty shrugged her shoulders, her smile turning into a smirk. “I actually don’t mind, but Jug’s been trying to compensate in other ways, and there’s no way I’m going to say anything to stop that now.”

The girls giggled to each other, Veronica slowly standing from the bed with a helping hand from Betty.

“I’m going to start dinner in a few minutes. Steaks on the grill and fresh corn. You need me to get you anything else right now?”

Veronica shook her head subtly. “I’m good, Betty. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course.”

“I think I’m going to finish putting the rest of the clothes away and take a little power nap. I feel completely zapped. Will you wake me when dinner’s ready?”

Betty stared at her friend with watchful eyes. “Sure.”

“Thank you, B.”

Betty waited another beat before slipping out of the guest room, shutting the door softly behind her, leaving Veronica behind with the remaining pile of clothes inside the large plastic white basket. Veronica sighed softly, her eyes shutting slowly as she drank in the silence, the magnitude of her situation suddenly hitting her like a brick.

The tears began to spill again, her lips trembling as she fought back a sob, her knees collapsing before she caught herself with her palms on the mattress. She slumped over to the side, laying in the fetal position over the comforter, bending her knees up as high as her belly would go. Her hands landed gently, subconsciously, over her stomach, but the baby was quiet for once and not moving.

_Peace at last._

Veronica leaned in to the pillow and unleashed her weeping into the thin cotton sheet and feather down, drenching it completely with her tears. It took a whole fifteen minutes before she stopped and her body caved in to the overwhelming fatigue that consumed her, the sobs drifting off into silence as her eyes fell closed.

As she slept, her fitful mind overcome with a distant memory of her and Sweet Pea kissing over a Cliffside, she curled inward and deeper into the covers, the light of the afternoon fading off into dusk, the laundry left discarded and forgotten in the basket on the floor.

 

*******

 

A week after Veronica and Betty returned, well rested and refreshed from their time at Alice’s cabin, the mother-to-be was treated to a baby shower and a gathering of all her best gal friends, her mother, and Kevin, each of them offering smiles and laughter and packaged baby goods from a registry set up by Betty.

Cheryl showed up with a large bassinet covered in red fabric with little ladybugs speckling the surface, earning an audible awe from the crowd. Veronica thought to herself how fortunate she was to receive the little crib, the one she had originally planned on using still held hostage at Sweet Pea’s house. She felt sad at the left behind nursery she had so devotedly designed, but she did her best to push those thoughts away and focus on the happiness surrounding her at the party.

Josie added to the gift with a musical mobile that played songs directly from a smart phone or iPod through Bluetooth, a piece of technology Veronica knew couldn’t have come cheap. The women chatted on and on about music selection, including the two CDs worth of lullaby cover songs from the 1960s and 70s provided by both Melody and Valerie.

Veronica sat surrounded by the other unwrapped presents, a series of bottles and bibs and onesies wrapped in plastic or folded in an assortment of gift bags. She and the guests noshed on a variety of finger foods – mini quiches with bacon and gruyere, baby dill pickles and green olives, tiny meatballs stuffed with mozzarella and smothered in red sauce, and delicious petit fours in vanilla and chocolate, dressed in pretty pastel green and yellow frosting with white bows on top.

Veronica had Betty top off her glass of punch as she settled back into her chair, her bottom growing numb from sitting in the same position for longer than twenty minutes. She was surprised all the refreshments and the baby’s location over her bladder hadn’t caused her to waddle back and forth to the bathroom more, the numbers of times an hour she needed to pee usually increasing as the days into her pregnancy did.

Beside her, Alice cooed over Juniper as the little girl climbed onto her lap, her curls bouncing over her tiny shoulders. Polly watched her daughter like a hawk from across the room, but it didn’t take long before she joined her mother in the circle of guests seated, reminiscing on the days when the twins were just born and still soft and pink.

Veronica smiled to herself as she thought about how soon it would be before she was holding her own bundle of joy. She felt trepidation still, but being around so many smiling faces and so much warmth had her spirits lifting, and for the first time in her pregnancy, surrounded by other women who managed to make motherhood work, she thought she just might be capable of raising a kid on her own after all.

Betty returned with a newly filled cup of punch and a small plate of chopped fruit. Veronica thanked her and plucked a purple grape from the plate, popping it into her mouth and squeezing the fruit hungrily with her teeth. She moaned in gratitude.

“Watch out for the pineapple, Veronica. That’s been known to induce labor.” Alice grinned matter-of-factly as she surveyed the group of women listening nearby. Soon, they all began trading other old wives’ tales about delivery.

“You know what else has been known to induce labor? Sex,” Polly explained, her lips pursed in scandal. She reached over to cover her daughter’s ears. “Especially nipple stimulation.”

The group erupted in giggles, the gaggle of women cackling over this outlandish yet sultry suggestion.

“It’s true!” Polly continued. “When I was pregnant with the twins, Jason was getting a little too friendly with that area and my water broke not long after.”

“Gross,” Cheryl replied, rolling her eyes, a grimace forming from her red painted lips. “I don’t need to hear about my brother that way.”

“How do you think the twins were made, Cheryl?” Polly answered with a wide smile on her face.

“I know how kids are made, Polly. I just don’t need to know how my _brother’s_ kids were made.”

“Still, sex and stimulation are some of the best, _and most fun_ , ways to bring about labor. Veronica, you could –“

The room grew quiet, the implication of Polly’s next words hanging heavy and thick in the air of Betty’s living room. Everyone looked uncomfortably toward the ground, but Veronica did her best to brush off the sick feeling that was growing in her stomach, the sudden pain of missing Sweet Pea spreading through her.

“I’m sorry, Veronica. I didn’t mean –“

“It’s okay, Polly,” Veronica waved off. “Besides, a girl can stimulate herself should she need to, am I right ladies?”

The laughter resumed slowly, the others clueing in on her attempt to relieve the tension from the room, and soon the conversation returned to other topics about impending motherhood. When Polly and Alice started talking about cloth diapers vs. commercial, Veronica turned to face Betty who was sitting to her right.

“Thank you for throwing this shower, Betty.” She reached over and placed her hand over her friend’s. “I don’t know how I would have done this without you.”

“You’d do it for me, V. Besides, you know how much I love organizing a good party.”

“This is true,” Veronica grinned.

There was a sudden commotion from the kitchen, the sounds of stomping feet and loud male voices echoing into the living room. Veronica’s spine stiffened when a familiar deep tenor said “Oh, shit,” and the stomping came to a halt.

In the kitchen doorway that led to the living space stood the Serpent trio – Jughead, Fangs, and flanking the pack as the tallest of them all, Sweet Pea. The latter stared directly at Veronica, their eyes glued to each other, and nobody dared speak. Finally, Betty cleared her throat and stood, obstructing Sweet Pea from Veronica’s view.

“Jug, what are you guys doing here? I told you the shower was going until five.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry Betts. I thought you said three. I didn’t realize you’d all be here. I remember you said you’d be taking Veronica and your moms out for dinner afterward.”

“You guys should go,” Betty suggested, her tone casual but still stern. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Jughead and Fangs turned to go, but Sweet Pea stayed planted to his spot, his eyes practically searching through Betty for Veronica. He wasn’t leaving until he saw her again, until he spoke to her. Seeing her felt like a slug to the chest, but still he missed the sound of her voice.

“Pea, let’s go.” Jughead tugged on his bicep, trying to lead him out of the house.

“Veronica,” Sweet Pea called out to her, completely ignoring Jughead except for the shrug he utilized to push him off his arm.

Slowly, Veronica stood from her chair, supporting her lower back with a steady hand as she tried to keep composure on her face. When Betty turned to face her, a questioning look of concern etched on her features, Veronica gave her an assuring grin.

“It’s okay, B. I’ll be okay.” She side-stepped Betty and turned her wide brown eyes on Sweet Pea’s, who looked frightened and imploring and happy all at once. She waddled through the sea of gifts and girls, each pair of eyes on her tense and curious. When she stood a few feet away from him, she gestured for him to follow her out of the room and into the hall.

She passed down the dim tunnel, passing by the warm photos of Betty and Jughead, the Joneses and the Coopers, all over the wall as Sweet Pea followed behind like a ghost. She stepped into the guest bedroom and waited for him to join her, his tall body towering not far behind. He shut the door quietly and turned to face her, his musk of leather and aftershave swirling in the air around him, and suddenly she realized just how close they were standing in the tiny bedroom.

She instinctually took a step back, a protective hand falling on her stomach, and she watched as his eyes fell across her entire body. On his face, she could see the pain and the awe co-mingling, could read his thoughts like an open page, the words spilling out with every grimace and smile and shine and darken of his eyes.

“What do you want, Sweet Pea?” She exhaled heavily, her shoulders dropping purposefully as she tried to relax and not let him see how being this close to him was getting to her.

He reached out with a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous habit that nearly made her smirk. It was comforting to know he was just as rattled as her.

He looked like he was trying on different words, opening his mouth before closing it more than once before he huffed, frustrated, through his nostrils. “How are you?” he asked, finally settling.

She blanched slightly, caught off guard by the casualness of his tone. “I, uh, I’m fine.”

“The baby?”

Another surprise. She shook her head once to clear the shock from her system. “The baby is fine. We are fine. Betty and Jughead have taken good care of us. Is that it?”

He licked his bottom lip in thought and she had to fight back the urge to bite her own in reaction.

“I miss you, Veronica. I want you to come back home.”

She sighed, knowing this was coming. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Pea. I left for a reason.”

“I know, and I understand why you had to go. But I’ve changed, Veronica. I’ve cleaned up the house, I’ve gotten my shit together at work. I’ve even spent more nights at home than I have at the bar. Nothing about the Wyrm is worth losing you over, and I feel like shit that I didn’t see that earlier.”

“But that’s the point, Pea – you didn’t see it. You didn’t see me, you didn’t see this baby, until it was too late. At first, I thought we had something really good. I thought you really wanted to be a dad, but then when push came to shove and the clock started to wind down, you couldn’t come through for me. I needed your help, Sweet Pea. I… I needed you. I needed you and you let me down.”

He started pacing, his wide shoulders hunching with stress as he crossed through the same path of three steps back and forth, trying to rationalize her hurt and his excuses.

“I know, Veronica. I know I fucked up, but I want to make it right.”

“I just don’t know how you’re going to accomplish that.”

“Because you won’t let me!” he shouted, his tone still low enough to keep it contained within the confines of the guest bedroom. “Christ, Veronica – I feel like you think I’m not deserving of you, that there’s no way in Hell you could ever need me.”

“That’s not true,” she interjected.

“It absolutely is. How am I supposed to know that you need me when you’re always taking care of everything on your own? You have a plan for the baby, you tell the doctor without including me. You have questions or concerns about your health, you go to your mother or Betty. You never let me know how you feel anymore, baby. You won’t let me in your head unless you’re pissed at me, and I don’t know what I can do to make you trust me again.”

“It’s hard to confide in you when you’re always at the Wyrm,” she shot back, irritation flushing her features.

“I get that,” he growled before he paused his step, taking a deep breath to compose his anger. “I get that, Veronica. And I know I was wrong for spending so much time away from you. But I was scared. It just felt like you were pushing me away, like you wanted me always one foot out of the door so that you had an excuse to not need me. It’s like you _want_ to raise this baby all alone, and I don’t know what I can do to make you confident in me again.”

“Pea,” she sighed, her features softening as the guilt sank in. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I wasn’t trying to push you away, but know me – I’ve been doing my own thing for so long. It’s hard for me to let go of control sometimes. But I felt like I had to step up because you weren’t there. I pushed you away because it’s the only thing I thought to do to keep me safe.”

“And I see that now. I want to show you how much I want you back. What do I have to do to prove it to you?” He threw his hands up into the air, suddenly hit with an idea. “I even started reading those baby books you talked about. The ones about what to expect when you’re pregnant? I know more about the birthing process than I ever wanted to know but every word is worth it if it shows you how much I’m committed to you and this baby.”

She wanted more than anything to let him back in, to throw her fears aside and pull him into her arms. She felt scared and confused and knew the comfort his embrace could offer, the warmth and security she could feel wrapped within his muscles and musk, around his lips and tongue, his heart. She wanted him to know she still loved him more than anything, that she thought about him with nearly every waking moment of the day, but the cost was too high.

The baby kicked at just the right moment where logic was still possible, just before she could tip over the edge and back into his life.

“I’m sorry, Sweet Pea, I really am. But I have to do what’s best for me and what’s best for the baby. You’re not ready for this. You can tell me up and down you want to be a dad, but I can see it on your face. You look at my stomach and there’s nothing but fear in your eyes. True and utter terror. And that’s okay! I’m scared too. But at the end of the day, I recognize that I have a duty to do what’s best for this child and I just don’t see that you’re at that same point.”

“But Veronica…” he pleaded, his eyes wide and beginning to wet with tears.

“I can’t. Please don’t ask me again.” Her eyes turned steely, the walls around her heart going back up as she felt the baby kick again, a swift reminder of what was at stake.

They stood in silence for another moment and for a second, Veronica thought he might reach out and touch her. He must have read the fear in her eyes and mistook it for actual disgust, not the horror she felt that one brush against his skin would bring to life all of her emotions for him. He moved backwards too quick, banging his back against the wall, gulping back the lump that must have been building in his throat. She wanted to explain it wasn’t him, her mouth falling open as she took a step toward him, but he slid out of range, back into the hall where he stomped back down into the living room and out the front door. He slammed the door so loud she could practically feel it on the other end of the house.

She wanted to collapse into tears, to bury herself in her sheets and grieve for what she just kissed goodbye, but before she could Betty appeared in her doorway, concern and worry blanketing her features. She was next to Veronica in two steps, her warm and gentle arms enveloping her should she need to cry, but Veronica was tough. She cleared her throat and shook her head.

“I’m fine, Betty. I’ll be fine. Now let’s go finish out this party so we can get the Hell out of here and go to dinner.”

Betty released her and watched as the raven-haired mommy-to-be jutted her chin up and out, exhibiting some of that signature Lodge pride, pulling it from a reserve somewhere when she needed it most. Veronica padded out of the room and back down into the living area, a smile painted on her face by the time she entered, feigning complete nonchalance for the meltdown that nearly happened just seconds before.

 

 

 


	9. Month Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink.
> 
> How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the end is finally here, my friends! The last chapter and last month of Veronica's pregnancy has arrived, and I cannot tell you how much of a privilege it has been to write this kind of story for a group of readers who really, genuinely enjoy this AU. I've had my ups and downs crafting this piece, but I am thankful for each and every one of you who have read it, commented on it, reblogged it, asked about it, and pestered me playfully about it on tumblr! I write for me, but I write for you all as well, and your support has been immeasurable to me. So thank you, again! 
> 
> The chapter itself is about half the length of this update, the other half made up by a series of moments in an epilogue. I have marked that transition, but just a heads up!
> 
> With regards to future updates on my next story, I have a few pieces in the works so please feel free to reach out to me at elegantmoonchild on tumblr. I'd be happy to chat!
> 
> Now, without further ado, please enjoy the final installment of "Three Peas in a Pod"!!!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

** Chapter Nine **

 

 

Two weeks after Sweet Pea’s disastrous crashing of Veronica’s baby shower, she found herself sitting with mixed emotions and third trimester cravings, cuddled up in Betty’s guest bed with a cup of hot tea and another episode of trash television, the mindless chatter and bickering of the reality TV stars blending into the background.

Outside, the sky grumbled, the promised forecast of rain and thunderstorms just on the horizon. Inside her stomach, though, the storm raged on as hunger struck her with a craving so fierce, she had spent the last twenty minutes going back and forth in her mind, contemplating a quick trip to a convenience store for a pint of her favorite sorbet.

As the minutes ticked on, and the reality show grew more and more void of quality, Veronica finally succumbed to her desires. She threw back the covers, slipped her swollen feet into a pair of comfy slip-on sandals, and promised herself the trip would be swift and fruitful, and before long she’d be buried back beneath the warmth of the covers, pint of her favorite raspberry dessert in her hand.

As she pulled back the front door, slipping out away from the watchful eye of her adorably nagging best friend, the thunder from afar grumbled louder and she prayed the storm would hold off until she got home.

Her luck ran out, though, when the first droplets of rain began to sound against her windshield. She had made it three blocks and was in no mood to turn back around, especially since she had already made it halfway to the store. The stubbornness of her stomach and mind won out, and she did her best to navigate through the neighborhood streets as the rain began to come down in torrents.

Just when she was right around the corner from the convenience store, the glory of fresh sorbet nearly mingling on her tongue, her car sputtered out and stopped.

The rain continued to pound against the thick layer of glass in front of her, the wipers of her car swiping left and right frantically as they gathered pools of water in their wake, pushing them aside and off the front of the windshield. In a fit of frustration, she smacked her hands angrily against the curved steering wheel, her hips aching and her feet pounding in the pair of sandals growing tighter and tighter with each day in her final trimester.

It would be her luck that her car would break down at a busy traffic stop, in the middle of the evening, as the sky grew dark and the downpour became torrential. She could hear honking in nearly every direction behind her car and she felt like breaking down herself, flooding the inside of her cab with her tears as she cursed her circumstances. Humiliation, frustration, and fear coursed through her, but the overwhelming sense of exhaustion consumed her brain and she wished she could just crawl into the backseat and fall asleep, ignorant to the cries of the cars behind her.

She wouldn’t be Veronica, though, if she fell down without putting up a fight, even if it meant fighting back against herself and her own fatigue to take care of business. She couldn’t abandon her car in the street, and it wouldn’t benefit her to stay cooped up in this tiny spot so far along into her pregnancy. She needed to get back to Betty’s, get her car parked safely in the front of her friend’s house, and her feet perched up on some soft cushion where her circulation could get ample flow.

She knew she needed to call a tow truck, but there was a moment of hesitation that fell upon her hand as it dropped to her purse to dig for her cell phone, pride flooding her brain as she realized the one towing company she could call would be one linked to Sweet Pea.

_Christ, she missed him._ The thought of his tall, towering figure made her heart ache so fiercely, the urge to cry built to staggering levels. If he were here now, she knew he would jump without thought and do whatever he needed to make sure she got home safely. There was a lot about him that she knew needed mending, but that part never faltered – she knew he loved her enough to never see harm come to her.

As she continued to dwell on thoughts of her former lover, she realized maybe he was more dependable than she first assumed. Despite his poor habits, he never failed to work his ass off to make sure they were both fed. He worked his hands to the bone, his feet into the ground, and somehow still found the time to come home and rub her limbs and shoulders at night, make love to her underneath the cotton sheets of their bed.

Her eyes closed tight and her lips trembled, her chest beginning to shake with the onset of fresh hot tears.

_God, I’ve been such a fool._

Her belly flicked with a jolt as the baby kicked within her, and before the water of her tears could break beyond her eyelids, she pushed all thoughts of Sweet Pea out of her mind and swallowed back the lump in her throat. He wasn’t here now. Wishing he were wouldn’t solve the problem she was in, and it wouldn’t move the car out of the middle of the street.

Foregoing the tow call, she thrust open the door to her car, welcoming the rain into the front seat before she waddled out and slammed the door behind her. She crossed to the front of the car, her black hair immediately drenched by the cool and thick streams of rain, and she pushed a few strands out of the way of her eyes to survey the smoke that was billowing out from the front of her Maserati.

A sudden sense of déjà vu interrupted her train of thought, but still she pushed it aside as she did her best to assess the damage with the opening of the hood, her body straining beneath the weight of the metal. She locked the hood in place with the inner rod and leaned in to find which part of the car was smoking. It could only help to have as much information as possible to provide to the towing company if her car was going to be salvaged at all.

She leaned in and cursed to herself. The smoke was coming from her engine and the first thought that flashed into her mind was that it had been months since she had taken the car in for a proper oil change.

_If Sweet Pea were still with you, he would have nagged you until you took the car in for an oil inspection. He would have probably done it for you without asking._

She shoved her internal monologue away, but the smile that crept along her lips still lingered. Sweet Pea would have definitely made sure that her car was in top shape, especially with her condition growing this delicate.

She could almost picture him with his hands on his hips, flannel shirt half-tucked into his jeans, hands thrust into his pockets with that smirk on his face that he couldn’t _not_ make. He’d look at her with love in his eyes and sarcasm dripping heavy on his lips, but that playful tone would take the edge away from his nagging, and she imagined they would have found common ground with a deep, slow kiss after she promised to take the car into the shop the next day.

She could almost hear the way he would utter her name as their lips parted, a tender whisper that would take her breath away more than the actual kiss, his loving nature the best surprise she could have pictured from the 6’5” biker who walked around with grease underneath his nails and callouses on his palms.

‘Veronica’ he would say into her ear, and her heart would drop to her knees.

“Veronica!”

If she closed her eyes, she could almost ignore the pouring of the rain and hear him saying her name again.

“Veronica!”

Her eyes flashed open, instantly met with a splash of cold water from the sky, but through the haze she could make out a dark figure running through a series of cars, his body covered in a pair of coveralls completely soaked from the rain, his black hair as dark as the storming sky above them. His eyes, those dreamy familiar pair of brown that haunted her memories, frantically assessed the scene around her and she realized he was worried.

Sweet Pea was here and he was worried. Her stomach fluttered again wildly as her heart nearly climbed into her throat.

“What are you doing here?” she shouted against the rain as he finally skidded to a halt in front of her, panting and nearly out of breath.

“Someone called a tow truck. Said some hot shot sports car was broken down in the middle of the street.” He looked her up and down, his eyes falling upon the rotund part of her belly that was beginning to peak out beneath the bottom hem of her black t-shirt. “Are you okay? You need to get the Hell out of the rain.”

She bristled at the patronizing tone of his voice. “I can take care of myself, Sweet Pea. I’ve been doing it perfectly fine for the past month. Current situation being the only exception, of course.”

“I told you that you should have chucked this piece of shit months ago. Why don’t you go stand inside that bodega across the street and get dry? I can hook up your car and take you home. Or Betty’s home, I guess.” She watched as he lowered his head an inch or two, his eyes falling to the wet ground beneath them.

_Ashamed. He felt ashamed,_ she realized, and immediately she regretted yelling back at him for his concern. As she took a moment to take the sight of him in, she realized he looked more like a beaten down dog than she had ever seen him, dark circles gathered under his eyes and his body a few pounds shy of where he had been when they were still together. In his eyes, there was a layer of sadness that made her heart pound mercilessly.

_She had done this. She had walked away from him, had left him alone and heartbroken._ But pride was a mighty thing, and there was a part of her that rationalized leaving him behind had been for the benefit of her child, even if it had come at the expense of her own heart. Try as she might to convince him that she had managed fine on her own, every night spent without him in Betty’s guest bed had been torture.

She needed him, needed his warmth and his smile and his love more than she ever thought possible. Still, her child needed her more, needed a parent who wasn’t too afraid of the future to stand tall and see things through. Her baby needed someone who could put away the frivolities of adulthood and learn to do what was best for the greater need of the child, and unfortunately Sweet Pea had fallen short of those qualities. She couldn’t risk putting her kid in the path of pain and disappointment with a dad who couldn’t seem to realize he needed to grow up and do what was right for his family.

“You don’t need to help me, SP. I can call another tow company.”

He sighed, his breath blowing out in a small puff from the moistness of the air around them. “That won’t be necessary, Veronica. This won’t take long.”

“But I can’t have you here, Sweet Pea. I can’t have you here helping me.”

His brow furrowed and she could see his heart sink. “Why not? Why won’t you let me help you, Veronica?”

She felt herself choke up, but she had to push him away. No matter the pain she felt in her chest, she had to let him go for the sake of her child.

“I can’t have you here because it’s just too hard having you around me. I can’t see you, can’t speak to you or hear your voice without adding another layer to the stress I feel right now. The water between us is too muddy right now, Pea, and I need… I need time before this baby is born to settle my thoughts and take care of myself. I can’t have you taking care of me if I’m going to do that.”

There was a beat of silence, and she watched as his chin tilted up, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as she saw him try to concentrate and find the right words for his reply.

“Veronica,” he spoke slowly, his eyes finding hers with purpose. “I’m so sorry if you felt like I couldn’t be there for you, be there for this baby. I messed up. I had no idea what I was doing and I made a mistake and I need you to know that I’m sorry.”

She nodded quickly, hoping her quick acceptance would get him out of her presence faster. She could feel her resolve fading with every second they stood feet apart.

“I accept your apology, Sweet Pea. Thank you. But I still need to do what’s best for this baby, and that means I have to make sure anyone that comes into contact with it has the best of intentions. I can do this,” she claimed, desperation flavoring her words as she tried to convince herself as much as him. “I can do this by myself. I’ve got Betty, and I’ve got my mom. I’m going to be fine. This baby is going to be fine.”

“Veronica,” he began, but she cut him off by raising a palm into the air between them.

“I can’t, Pea. Even if I wanted to, as much as I want to, I can’t let you back in. I have to do what’s best.”

“But wouldn’t having two parents for this baby be what’s best? I can change, Veronica. I _have_ changed. I wake up every day and all I want to do is turn over and see you, put my hand on your belly and feel our child beneath my fingers.” He ran a trembling hand through his slick hair, collecting handfuls of water and tossing them to the ground. “Did you know that every morning, when I would wake up before you, touching your belly was the first thing I did? Telling our child ‘good morning’ was the first thing I said each day and I looked forward to it every time.”

Her stomach clenched and she could feel the baby kick, though the feeling was still somehow overshadowed by the crippling pain in her chest as she fought against the tears that threatened again to spill. She had never known, had never imagined, that he would have set aside this personal time with their baby that didn’t include her. She had taken that away from him when she left and she would never have known.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she stuttered through the rain.

“Because I never dreamt that you would have left. I should have known, though. I should have realized I would have found a way to fuck everything up between us because that’s all I’ve ever done. But I know better now, Veronica. I know without a doubt that the only way I could do anything right would be by loving you and loving our baby every single second for the rest of my life.”

She shook her head, tears now mixing with the rain as she began to sob in the street in front of him. “It’s not enough, Sweet Pea. It’s still not enough. I need more than pretty words. _We_ need more than promises, Pea. I needed you to step up, to meet me pace for pace, but you failed. You couldn’t rise to the occasion when I needed you most, and I had to be the grown up for us both. I can’t be that for you when this baby comes. _I can’t be your mother._ ”

She knew the words would sting, and predictably his eyes closed as he winced in reaction. He was quick to bounce back, though, taking a step toward her to sooner close the distance between them.

“I know that now, Veronica. I lost my mother a long time ago and she’s never coming back, and it was unfair of me to expect you to take care of me like you did. You handled everything like a queen and I took advantage of that and I can’t tell you enough how much I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. It’s time for me to grow up, though. My mom may not be alive and my dad may have walked out, but I won’t do that to our child. I won’t leave you both behind. You’re my only reason for existing, Veronica. Can’t you see that? Loving you, getting to love you was the best job I ever had, and getting a chance to love our baby can only give my life more meaning.”

“This baby isn’t a lesson for you, Pea!”

“I know that! I know that. But the lesson came from being apart and realizing what loving you both really means. You are _my everything_ , Veronica. You are my life, the entire reason I get up out of bed and put my feet down on this tired earth. I can’t imagine a world without you in it, without our baby in it. I’m such a fool, such a worthless scrap of man sometimes, but when I’m with you I feel like maybe, just maybe I am worthy of something special. You, baby – you are the most special thing I’ve ever had the privilege of loving. Please don’t walk away from me again. Please don’t go, _please._ I think it would steal the last bit of air from my lungs if you turned around and left me all alone. I know I don’t deserve a second chance just because I ask for one, but I promise I will do everything in my power to earn your love, earn your trust again.”

When she didn’t turn away from him, he stepped in again, reaching for her hands and gripping them gently, his eyes pleading and desperate but his touch tender.

“I was scared, baby. Terrified out of my God damn mind. But the thing that terrified me more was waking up without you and realizing life had no meaning anymore. _You_ are the reason I fight to see the best in myself. Your love is the strength I need to wake up and face whatever bullshit gets thrown my way. I never had that growing up, baby. I never had someone strong like you to hold me up and make sense of the world. I thought surviving by myself made me a fighter, but baby… being without you and knowing the difference your love makes… there’s no surviving that way. I would fight any mother fucker, any monster that crept into my mind and tried to convince me that life wasn’t worth living if it meant I got to spend another _second_ with you. If I need to get on my knees, place my hands on this wet street and kiss the ground to show you my heart, my life is at your mercy, I’d do it. I’d do it until the rain dried up, until the cars all passed us by, until the pavement beneath me fell apart if it meant proving to you how much I fucking love you and how much I’ll fucking love you for the rest of my life, how much I’ll fucking love this baby. Sometimes I think I may never prove to myself I’ll be a good father, but I’ll spend the rest of his life or her life fighting to be the best damn dad I can be. You’re my family, Veronica. You, me, this baby – you’re the only real family I’ve ever had and I’d be the luckiest son of a bitch if I got to spend the rest of my days waking up next to you both. I know your parents think I’m a piece of shit, and maybe they’re right, but I’ll proudly be the piece of shit that loves you and this baby endlessly without question. Please just let me make it up to you both. Please let me show you how much I want to be a father, how much I want to be with you.”

When he was finished, they both took a collective deep breath.

Veronica thought quickly, but everything suddenly became so clear. She was done hesitating, done questioning every motive and every line and every kick delivered into the thick skin of her tummy. She leaned in, her arms wrapping around his neck as the rain fell around them in what felt like slow motion as their lips collided and pressed warmth into each other. Her heart suddenly burst with a bright light, her womb quivering with excitement and fluttering, as their lips became one solid unit, her limbs tightening around him as his hands pressed into her lower back, cradling her gently against him.

All around them, the cars honked and people shouted angrily, but none of it mattered. The storm above them could continue to rage on and it still wouldn’t be enough to separate them from each other, their mouths and hearts finally finding home with each other.

When their lips eventually split apart, bodies still clinging close to each other, her words tumbled out of her mouth like a river.

“I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea. I’m so sorry I left you and never tried to make this work. You made me _so mad,_ but I know in my heart you love me and I can’t deny that I love you more than I could measure. _You just make me so fucking crazy sometimes._ I know we have some things to work out, but I don’t think I can do this without you.” The tears continued to pour as her hands fisted into his hair. “I don’t think I can have this baby without you there, without you in my life. Every time I look at you, the baby kicks and I keep telling myself she knows, or he knows… our baby knows we are better when we are together. We are a _family_ and we wouldn’t make it through life without you.”

“I love you so much, baby,” he muttered, his hands coming up to caress her cheeks, his eyes searching every inch of her face before his lips fell to hers again, crashing into her flesh as teeth bumped into teeth, a frantic and passionate embrace there in the middle of town. “I don’t think I could make it through life without you two either.”

They kissed again, the final seal of their love for each other confirmed beneath the heavenly spray of rich cool water, the heat from their bodies producing a thin halo of steam around them like a warm glow. As they pulled away again, the cold water turned hot as it fell upon her feet and she realized with a frantic mind that something wasn’t right.

“Pea, I think it’s time,” she mumbled, repeating the phrase again as she watched his eyes narrow and then go wide. “I think my water just broke.”

“Oh shit,” he stuttered, his head turning to the left and right quickly as he tried to figure out what to do next. “Your car is broken down. Fuck. Okay, we have the tow truck but I don’t think we’ll be able to get out of this mess of cars to get to it in time.”

She smiled calmly, calmer than she would have expected for herself, and pressed a gentle palm against his cheek. He might not be able to step up and stay calm like she could, but she knew that didn’t mean he cared less or wasn’t capable of being the man she needed in this moment.

“It’s going to be okay, Pea. My cell phone is in the car. I need you to call 911, see if an ambulance can come pick us up and take us to the hospital.”

He did as she asked, returning to her as quick as he could to make sure she was doing okay. He nestled her into the back of the car where she could steady her breathing. His eyes darted between her and her cell phone, the giant clock app assisting him in timing her contractions. His diligence and determination made her love him more and she was overtaken by the sudden urge to kiss him. Another round of contractions kicked that idea to the curb, however, her body betraying her in the most painful way as a wave of muscle clenching and stretching occurred in her insides.

The ambulance quickly arrived and shuttled them to the nearest hospital, Sweet Pea calling Jughead on the way up to the labor and delivery ward so that Betty would be informed. He relied on her to call Hermione and Hiram, choosing to dodge that bullet and focus all his attention and energy on the love of his life as she panted and sweat from the pain of her labor.

In the delivery room, by hour five, Veronica had succumbed to exhaustion and drugs, choosing the epidural to ease the pain of labor, and Sweet Pea had never been more grateful for the miracle of medicine. Watching her slip into slumber, her mouth hanging open just slightly, he concentrated on her breathing and thanked all the deities he could think of for this chance to be present at the birth of their baby.

She arose a couple of hours later, her body twisting in pain and her face scrunched up with discomfort, and he immediately pressed the button to the nurse call, barraging Veronica with a million questions about how she felt, if she needed anything, if he could do anything for her.

“Pea, I love you, but right now I need you to just shut up and be calm.”

He pressed his lips together, cutting off the next series of questions from spilling off his tongue, and nodded. He stayed silent though, choosing instead to reach for her hand and rub his thumb slowly along her skin, and she marveled at how well he had listened.

For the rest of the labor up until the actual delivery, he became her rock. There were moments where she felt nauseated and he soothed her back with gentle rubs and her forehead with a cool rag. He had read in some baby book about the use of a round yoga ball to help with back pain, but the nurse had explained the epidural hindered Veronica from getting out of the bed, so he did his best to make do with the other tools he had, rubbing small circles into the flesh of her feet with his firm hands, resulting in a cluster of groans and “ooohs” from her pursed lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he looked up from his perch by her feet, her brown eyes melting into his own. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He smiled that little smile she adored, one side of his mouth cocking upward, and she felt the flutter in her heart that time as well as the one from her tummy.

“Me too.”

When the time came for Veronica to push, her contractions now two minutes apart and steady, he joined her by the head of the bed, his eyes trained on hers with every push and every harsh breath that followed.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he would encourage, allowing her to grip his hand as tight as she wanted, though he could have sworn he heard a knuckle crack sickeningly at one point. He would have let her break both of his damn hands, he wasn’t going to leave her side now that she had finally allowed him back in her life.

When the doctor told her it was her final push, and the scream of their baby erupted in the air around them, he still couldn’t rip his eyes away from the love of his life, her head falling back upon the pillow as she fought for that large breath that celebrated the end of labor.

As they waited for her to deliver the placenta, the nurse placed their wailing baby on a bare patch of Veronica’s chest and for the first time, Sweet Pea looked down at his daughter.

Her skin was various shades of pink, her tiny lips quivering as her fists clenched and shook, the shock of her thick black hair falling just above her closed eyes. She was so little, so much smaller than he expected, but his heart suddenly grew to sizes unknown, practically bursting out of his chest and filling the entire room with a light so bright and burning, he would have thought Heaven had come for him.

He had no idea loving anyone could be this instantaneous, could be this sudden and this painful and wonderful and brilliant all in one stroke. She was wrinkled and screaming and _beautiful._

_My daughter,_ he thought. _My little girl._

Her teeny body was shoved inward towards Veronica’s now fully exposed breast, her nipple pert and ready to feed. The baby’s mouth instinctually moved toward the pebbled flesh, her lips quickly finding purchase and latching on with a hard suckle. Veronica’s eyes widened with shock, amazed that the baby had taken to breastfeeding so quickly, and she looked up to grin at Sweet Pea.

“She did it,” she praised happily.

“ _You_ did it, baby. You did it and I am so amazed by you. I love you so God damn much, Veronica. _I love her_ more than I ever thought I could.” His words caught as the dam in his throat burst and the tears released themselves from his eyes. He leaned in to touch her forehead with his, their lips meeting in a sweet kiss as their daughter fed from her mother beneath them. If death came to claim him now, in this moment of absolute bliss, he would still fight tooth and nail to stay alive, to feel more of this amazing feeling that he felt he had been missing out on his entire life.

And suddenly it wasn’t enough. This feeling of togetherness was still missing one small piece to completion, and as he looked back into the eyes of his beloved, he realized exactly what it was.

“Marry me, Veronica. You’ve given me a child. You’ve given my life a whole new meaning. Please give me the chance to worship you and love you and fight with you and still love you every single day for the rest of my life. Marry me, baby, please. Marry me.”

Her mouth opened in shock, her eyes wide but glistening as her tears matched his own, streaming down her cheeks with happiness and amazement.

“Yes. Yes. Absolutely, definitely, completely yes. I love you so much, Pea, more than I ever could have imagined. Of course I will marry you.”

They kissed again, a pure golden mist of joy shining around them and between them as their daughter nestled satisfied and fed, her head nuzzling the skin of her mother as her parents hovered above her, consumed with an all-encompassing love.

Minutes later, when they were still gazing down at their daughter with tired, yet hypnotized eyes, Veronica ran her finger along the smooth surface of the baby’s back soothingly.

“I was thinking… what about Billie Evelyn? Billie Evelyn Culpepper? How does that sound?”

His stare broke free from his daughter to meet the eyes of her mother, his future wife, and all he kept thinking was how he had thought he loved her seconds ago, only to be eclipsed by the love he felt for her now. Her desire to tie the memory of his mother to their daughter, the other lady in his life that he would love unconditionally, made his heart swell and nearly collapse from the weight of his emotions. The fact that his last name was included filled him with pride, his chest puffing out a bit more as he stared down again at his little girl.

“That sounds beautiful, baby. You, me, and Billie. My little family.”

 

******* **Epilogue** *******

 

Veronica woke up in the middle of the night, the bedroom dimly lit but for the light of an open door coming from the hallway. She turned to look beside her to find an empty spot in the bed, the indention of a body where Sweet Pea had been laying moments ago. When she reached out to smooth the covers, they still felt warm and she knew it hadn’t been long since he had gotten up.

She stretched her arms out and pulled back the sheets, climbing out of bed quietly, reaching for her silk robe laying on a chair next to the bed. She tied the strap around her waist and tiptoed out of the bedroom, inching toward the open doorway of her daughter’s nursery, the faint glow of a lamp bouncing off the white walls of the hall.

She peeked her head in around the door frame, her breath caught at the sight of Sweet Pea hunched over the crib, his massive arms folded over the wooden rails, his eyes glassy and focused intently on the little bundle of squirming flesh nestled in the crib beneath him.

Veronica could just see the faint outline of the baby from her position by the door, the little kicking of her legs and tremble of her fists shaking in the air around her. Billie cooed gently, and it took a moment for Veronica to realize it was in time with the whispered echo of a song playing from Sweet Pea’s cell phone, perched on the window sill beside the crib.

She could hear the dulcet tone of Billy Joel’s “Lullaby (Goodnight My Angel)” wafting from the phone’s speakers, the matching sound of Sweet Pea’s voice as he sang the lyrics out to his daughter who watched him with curious eyes. It was in that moment when Veronica realized she had never heard him sing. His voice was decent, deep and slow as he serenaded the baby.

Veronica’s heart squeezed tightly and she clutched at the silk covering her chest, gripping it tighter as he reached in with a nervous hand, so much larger than the ones in the crib beneath him, and caressed the top of Billie’s head.

The baby made a loud screech, kicking her feet out in excitement, as her face erupted in a smile, one so tender and sweet it made Veronica’s heart melt. Sweet Pea chuckled and whispered to the baby, “Shhh, Billie Bear. We don’t want to wake up mommy.”

Suddenly, Veronica felt like she was imposing on a private moment and wanted to give them both the space they needed to bond. She listened a second longer as Sweet Pea soothed their daughter with gentle “shhhs” and watched as the baby settled down, curling her hands around his extended pinky, pulling it inward with a strength Veronica could only admire from afar toward her tiny little chest.

As Sweet Pea resumed his soft singing, Veronica smiled at both Billie and her father before backing out silently from the doorway, creeping quietly into the bedroom, tossing her robe back onto the chair to erase any evidence she had gotten up.

It was another ten minutes before Sweet Pea crawled back into bed beside her, clearly trying to be as careful as possible not to wake her up, and Veronica found herself succumbing to sleep with a smile on her face moments later when she felt him turn to face her and wrap his arm around her waist lovingly.

 

*******

 

“Billie Evelyn, you better get your little butt down from there right now,” Veronica called, watching with an eagle eye as her four year-old daughter twisted her head around to find out she had been caught by her mother, her tiny hands clinging to the top of a bar stool and her feet perched on one of the lower rungs.

“But mommy, I want to climb! Uncle Fangs said it was okay.”

“I did _not_ say that, Veronica,” Fangs replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Liar,” Billie giggled, sticking her tongue out at Fangs, who mirrored her actions with a grin on his face. His hands turned into claws as he crossed toward her, growling as she scrambled to climb down from the stool and run from him, not fast enough as he scooped her up in his buff tan arms. Billie giggled and squealed as he swung her around, holding her close to him as Veronica watched from across the room.

“You two are the biggest troublemakers, I swear.”

Betty waddled over to where Veronica was sitting, two glasses of iced tea in her hands. She set them both down on the table, the condensation dripping from the bottom rim onto the wood, and settled herself on the chair next to her raven-haired best friend.

“This heat is going to kill me, V. I don’t know how I can do this for another two months. I feel as big as a house.” She placed a comforting hand on her belly, patting her swollen stomach through the thin cotton of her canary yellow sundress. “How in the Hell have you done this twice?”

Veronica grinned as she peered down at the top of a tiny head cradled close to her chest, two chubby legs wiggling in their confines of the harness attached across her front. “I got incredibly lucky with these two. They have their father’s leanness.”

“Yeah, well, you’d think this one’s dad was a sumo wrestler. I feel like a beached whale.”

“Well, you look absolutely stunning, B. You carry pregnancy very well. You’ve got that glow that I envy.”

“What are you talking about? You were probably the most gorgeous pre-mommy I’ve ever seen.”

“Until you came along,” Veronica smiled, placing her hand over Betty’s gently. “I don’t know how Jug keeps his hands off of you.”

“He really doesn’t,” Betty giggled. “Last night, I swear to God I had to swat his hand away from my boobs about twenty times. They’re just too sensitive for any fun right now.”

“Fight through the pain, B,” Veronica winked. “It’s worth it.”

Betty chuckled, looking down at her watch surrounded by a thin silver chain band. “Speaking of, where is Jug? I thought he and Pea would have been back by now?”

“We sent them off with a pretty hefty grocery list for the party. They should be pulling up soon though.”

“They better. I’m starving and I feel like I have to eat for five.”

“Just two,” Veronica smiled.

The sound of a truck pulling into the back lot came to a stop right in front of the opened wide back bar door, a bit of gravel dust pillowing around the tires as three men climbed out of the cab.

“Daddy!” Billie squealed, wriggling to get out of Fangs’ arms. He set her down and she took off, flying across the wooden floor of the bar toward her towering father, his arms saddled with multiple bags of various groceries.

“My Billie Bear,” he called out to her, setting the grocery bags down just in time to swallow up his daughter with his massive arms, gripping her close to his chest as he twirled them both around. He cradled her in between his forearms, his lips coming down to blow a harsh kiss against her tummy, eliciting another round of squeals from her excited lips.

“Be careful, Pea,” Veronica warned, but she couldn’t erase the smile on her face as she watched her husband play with their daughter.

Billie giggled as Sweet Pea hoisted her up onto his shoulders, tugging her green summer dress down to cover her knobby knees behind his neck. “Of course, dear.”

He crossed over to where Veronica sat, crouching down low so he could place a gentle peck on her lips. “How’s my baby doing?”

“You talking about me or JJ?”

Sweet Pea chuckled, rewarding her with another kiss. “I’m talking about you both.” He brought a hand up to ruffle the thin black hair crowning the top of his son’s head.

“How’s my little man this afternoon?” Sweet Pea transferred a kiss where his hand had been, feeling the smooth texture of his son’s baby fine hair caress his skin.

“Since his nap got cut short, cranky,” Veronica explained, standing to bounce gently with her knees as the baby began to squirm and whine. She looked up at her husband, offering him a gentle smile. “But we’re fine now that daddy is back.”

They leaned in toward each other and kissed again, deepening it as the baby was pressed closer to his daddy’s chest, still strapped onto his mother. Billie looked down at her parents and giggled, playing with a tuft of her father’s hair with her tiny fingers.

John Jett brought his little fists up to pound gently against his father’s pecs, causing both Veronica and Sweet Pea to laugh into their shared kiss.

“Someone _is_ fussy today. Want me to take him?”

Veronica shook her head. “I’ve got him. Why don’t you finish unloading the groceries? We need to get this barbeque going before we cause a riot. There’s going to be a lot of hungry folks here in about an hour for this fundraiser.”

“On it, baby.”

Sweet Pea gently yanked his daughter from his shoulders, sliding her down his chest to land in his arms. Her sandals clanked against his side, her arms wrapping around his slender neck, as she looked down at her baby brother from her vantage point.

“Mommy, does baby JJ get to eat bee bee que with us?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. He’s too tiny.”

“But I’m not too tiny, right?”

“No ma’am,” Sweet Pea replied, giving his daughter a peck on the cheek. “You’re my big girl and big girls get to eat barbeque.”

“Silly daddy, it’s bee bee que!”

Sweet Pea chuckled as he set his daughter on the ground, her arms reluctantly releasing from around his neck. “Okay, baby. Now why don’t you go wash your hands? You can help daddy put the groceries away.”

Veronica watched as her daughter took off again, her energy limitless and expendable as she dashed toward the bathroom down the bar hall. Across the room, Veronica watched as Jughead and Betty kissed, exchanging little whispers and smiles as he placed a gentle hand on her tummy, bending down to place a gentle peck over the rounded surface. A few feet away, Fangs and Kevin were sharing a beer, their faces flushed with happiness as they also shared a quick smooch before Fangs joined Sweet Pea by the truck, retrieving the goods for the Serpents’ annual summer backyard barbeque fundraiser.

Against her chest, her son had been soothed by her bouncing and began to coo, pulling his fist to his mouth to suck, and she looked down at him in awe, his curious brown eyes peering back up at her.

For the past few years, life had taken a series of turns and twists she never saw coming, including the birth of their first child. After Billie had arrived, everything had changed for the better. Even with the fights and the financial struggles, Veronica officially swearing off any monetary help from her parents, she and Sweet Pea had found even ground and had grown deeper in love.

They remodeled parts of the house as they went, the project halted two years in when Veronica found herself expecting again. As a gift, Fangs had gathered up a crew with FP and Jughead’s help to finish the remodeling of a new bedroom just before John Jett was born, and finally their house had felt complete. Their second child’s birth had been even more eventful than the first, Veronica’s water breaking the day she found out Betty was pregnant, the two women crying all the way to the hospital in the ambulance as Sweet Pea rushed on his motorcycle to get there before the baby had been born.

He arrived just when she was beginning to push, the second delivery occurring much faster than the first, and it had been only a matter of minutes before they were greeted with the sight of their pink and squealing son, a 6 lbs. 2 oz. miniature version of his father, the spitting image of Sweet Pea all swaddled against his mother’s breast.

Once again, Betty and Fangs had been deemed godparents, Jughead an honorary godfather, all present at the christening of their son, along with the Lodges. Even with their disagreements, Veronica had managed to completely patch up the relationship with her parents, even expecting them to show up to the barbeque, Hiram Lodge decked out in what was sure to be another classic three-piece suit despite the sweltering summer heat.

All around her, love and joy had shone through. Betty and Jughead were mere months away from becoming first-time parents, their high school sweetheart love coming full circle with a brand new baby. Fangs had even settled down into a genuine relationship, finally making a commitment to Kevin Keller after their rocky start of “are they” or “aren’t they.” Both couples seemed overjoyed and happily in love, though Veronica would say her love for Sweet Pea still outweighed the rest.

As she watched him hoist another load of groceries from the truck into the bar, she couldn’t help the fluttering of her stomach, the fast beating of her heart, the ache in between her legs as she realized that man was all hers. They shared children together, built a home together, and after a year into Billie’s life, shared vows together. There was no way she could have predicted her life would turn out this way when she stood along the side of the road in the Southside part of town, her broken down sports car billowing smoke from its hood, the sight of a tow truck appearing from down the street.

That day they had met had been the end of everything and the beginning of something much more beautiful than she could have imagined. She had found the love of her life, had grown two more with him, and as she cradled the back of her son’s head lovingly, she realized life couldn’t get any sweeter.


End file.
